In Name Only
by SCWLC
Summary: Children change almost everything.
1. Series 1

Title: In Name Only  
Author: SCWLC  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything herein and no one's paying me to do it.  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Children change almost everything.  
AN: Item the first. What I know about parenting and childcare can be written on a 3x5 index card. Any real parents reading this may well want me dead by the end of this for sheer optimism. Item the second. I haven't spent any time around under ten children since I was one. See the second sentence of item the first. Third, I am no psychological expert, so you may just have to go with it.

Well, said she, grimly, we shall see.

* * *

Jake grimaced as he stood outside the school. There it was, home of bullies, ignorant teachers and misery. That was what school was, be it nursery school, primary school, high school, it was just effing miserable. And here he was, about to walk in under his own power.

This was all Kieran's fault. If he'd stood sentry like he was supposed to while Jake made the last connections into the system so that he could get every undergraduate transcript to be printed on a Star Wars themed background for a 24 hour period, Jake wouldn't be here, he'd be back in his residence, cackling with glee. Instead Kieran had wandered off to try to ask Danielle out again, and Jake had been caught.

The dean had chosen a deliberately creative punishment, rather than some sort of normal university censure, not wanting to do anything that would reflect poorly on Jake's transcripts. That, of course, had more to do with some sort of private funding and donation initiative on the dean's part than anything else, but Jake had been grateful. At least, until he'd heard the actual punishment. Then he pleaded to have his grades docked, to get thrown out of the residence, anything but this.

His punishment was to spend the next several weeks being the guest lecturer, classroom by classroom, in a set of three schools out in the hinterlands, which serviced several hamlets (they were too small to rate the title of 'village'). One nursery school, one primary and one high school. He had to teach uninterested children and teenagers about paleontology until he'd done so in every bloody class.

It was enough to make a geek cry.

Taking a deep breath, he walked in and headed for the office that was the central authority for all three. Standing in front of the secretary's desk, he tried not to wince. She was a bored middle-aged woman, trying too hard to cling to her youth with heavy eyeshadow that went out with the 80s, a powder-green power suit with huge shoulder pads, and with an expression on her face that screamed of an older woman hoping to land herself a young stud. The way her eyes lit up made Jake very uncomfortable, and for the first time in his life, he was delighted to be called into a headmaster's office.

"Mr. Cosgrove?" asked the man behind the desk. He was a paunchy man in a buttoned shirt and deliberately silly tie that went completely at odds with his demeanour, which was sort of completely humourless. The tie choice looked a little like it might be an attempt to make himself more likeable.

"Yes, sir," Jake said, feeling rather like he ought to play extra contrite. Who knew what word might get back to the dean, and he really had no desire to get stuck with some worse punishment. Like teaching maths or computers. At least he liked dinosaurs.

"I am the headmaster of the primary section of our school, Dudley Bottomley," Jake barely kept a poker face at that, "And I believe you are being sent to the nursery school to begin with, and will work your way up through the years."

"I see," Jake said, noncommittally. He listened to some standard-sounding blather about the school's interest in excellence, and was led to the building set a bit further back from the road of the three and entered the halls lined with bright paint and paper decorations made by the children.

"I believe the first class here is Miss Landy's," Headmaster Bottomley told him, then knocked and walked in. "Hello, children," he said in a patently false genial tone. Most of the children watched with a sort of fascination at this invasion of their daily routine, but one little girl looked rather sceptical of the whole thing. "I have here a special visitor from the University of Sheffield, and he's here to talk to you all about dinosaurs. Isn't that exciting?" he asked, now quite fatuous, really.

Jake smiled weakly at the children. They stared back, rather reminding him of the so-called "compies" in Jurassic Park. Harmless until they spat poison in your eyes and ate you alive. While he was woolgathering on the prospect of this collection of small people suddenly leaping on him and tearing him to shreds (why were creepy children so much more creepy than anything else on television?), the headmaster finished his introduction and left.

He was left facing the class, and wondered how Star Wars on a transcript could really warrant this sort of torture. "Erm . . . hi, nice to meet you all," he said.

"Hello Mr. Cosgrove," they sing-songed back.

Jake tried, really he did. He talked about t-rexes and triceratops, brachiosaurs and deinonychuses, hadrosaurs and pterosaurs and didn't go into lots of depth, talking about how big things were and how scary the teeth and claws were and was as dramatic as he could be. It was sort of sickening. Oh, he'd been just as fascinated at that age with something that big and that old and that scary, but the little buggers were absolutely jaded and eventually they just erupted into screaming fits and yelling "Raarrrr!" at each other as they all pretended they were t-rexes.

He had to stay there for the whole bloody afternoon.

Miss Landy shot him a sympathetic shrug, patting him on the shoulder as she corralled a three-foot-high diplodocus, trying to use a rucksack as a makeshift tail to bludgeon a fellow three foot tall dinosaur. Jake suspected the latter was a triceratops from the use of paintbrushes held to his forehead to viciously poke the attacking sauropod.

He was distracted from the fascinating floor show by a tugging on his t-shirt. He looked down to see the highly sceptical little girl he'd noted before. "Hello," he said, crouching to put himself a little closer to eye-to-eye. "Did you need something?"

"Why are the dinosaurs' names so funny?" she asked.

He frowned. "What do you mean, funny?"

"Well," she said, plopping down beside him with a plastic brachiosaur held close. "We've got foxes and rabbits and lions and tigers and elephants and cows and things. Why aren't dinosaurs' names like that? They're all really long and funny-sounding."

"Well," Jake echoed her, "Foxes and rabbits and such got names like that because people know them and sort of just called them things 'cause they had to call them something. But since dinosaurs got discovered separately, scientists got to name them. So, a lot of the time, they name them things that sort of describe them."

"How does tyrannosaurus rex describe a really big, scary, lizard with scary teeth and tiny arms?" she asked all scepticism again.

"There's this language, Latin," Jake explained. "You may have heard of it. Lots of scientists use Latin words and call dinosaurs things that way. So, tyrannosaurus rex, actually means tyrant lizard king."

"Oh," she said. "Do scientists have special names for normal animals?"

He nodded. "Yep," he popped the 'p', making her giggle. "So, the red foxes you might see around sometimes are known as vulpes vulpes, which is sort of silly, 'cause it just means fox fox, but there's others, like vulpes cana, which means silvery fox, but people call them Blanford's foxes."

"Why would they have two names like that?" she asked.

"Because there's lots of different kinds of foxes, but they're all still foxes," Jake explained. "So they're saying this is a fox, but it's a whatever sort of fox."

"So, they name the dinosaurs things that describe them?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jake said. "But sometimes," he admitted, "They'll make it all scientific, but they're just naming them after someone's kid or pet dog." He grinned. "What's your name?"

"Imogen," she said, making a face. "I don't like it much."

"I can imagine," Jake said. "Still, if you have a middle name, maybe you can ask your mum and dad to call you by that instead."

"I couldn't," she snapped back, hastily and with an odd look on her face. Like the idea frightened her somehow. "Anyhow, my mum died when I was born and my dad doesn't . . . I don't want to . . . he likes it," she finished.

She didn't seem to want to talk about it, so Jake let it go. "So, if someone were naming a dinosaur after you, let's say . . . hmm . . ."

"A hadrosaur?" she asked.

"Why a hadrosaur?" Jake wanted to know.

She smiled, looking a little sad. "They take care of their babies, right? That's what Jack Horner proved with the Maiasaur."

"You're a smart one," Jake told her. "When did you hear about that?"

Imogen seemed to glow at his praise. "There was a bit on the telly last week," she said. "There were reporters talking to him, and he was talking about it."

"So," Jake went on then, "Maybe a dinosaur would be named something like, bucina imogensis. Which would be sort of, Imogen's trumpet."

She giggled again. As she moved, he spotted a bruise on her arm. It went all the way around. Not wanting to scare her, but suddenly unsettled, Jake deliberately grinned and kept talking. She was a bright little thing, actually interested in dinosaurs, not just in big stompy things, and Jake enjoyed his morning after all, because she was clever and fun and asked all sorts of interesting questions for a four-year old.

Imogen was picked up by a stern man, who half dragged her down the hall. As he watched her go, Miss Landy came up to him. "Don't think about it," she told him. "Geoffrey Clarke's not one to be crossed."

But Jake couldn't stop thinking about it. He thought about it that afternoon at the next class of four-year-olds, none of whom had her spark. He couldn't stop that night, or the next day or the next. He had to tramp back to the school day after day, since his term at uni was over and he was stuck in that godforsaken hamlet until he was done. Every day he'd stop off to see Imogen Clarke, who'd smile and ask him more questions about dinosaurs.

The bruises were hidden, but not well, and they always peeked out from just under hems and sleeves and shirt necks. A week and he couldn't stand it, couldn't stand the small hints that were dropped and the way none of the teachers seemed to care to notice. So, he reported it to the police.

Two nights later, he was accosted on his way back to the room he was staying in at the dean's cousin's house. "You'll stay out of Clarke's way if you know what's good for you," he was told.

Miss Landy shook her head when he stopped by, "I told you," she said.

Imogen wasn't there that day.

She wasn't there for three days, and when she was back, she was pale and sad, and very angry when she saw him. "He said you told. You can't tell," she said. "He gets angry with me when people tell."

It seemed Clarke had the whole area in his pocket. Or scared. Or both. On a hunch, Jake hacked into the police files and found that his report had been shelved by an investigation he knew couldn't have happened, because nothing worked that fast. A little more hacking and Clarke's name began to show up as a man who made a lot of charitable donations and a man with connections to a raft of people with less-than-stellar reputations. And the idea that came to him was so mad, he dismissed it at once.

But as his bruises faded, he couldn't help but think of it again. There was no going to the authorities, what would he do? Tell them that the whole of the town and its police force were corrupt? That everyone was scared of this man, whatever his influence was? And if he took his temper at Jake out on Imogen, what would he do if Jake got an investigation happening? It was like some sort of third rate television melodrama.

He'd given his last horrible speech to dully uninterested teenagers, wondering if a bare five years before he'd been that horrible to his teachers and the like, when he passed Clarke, not quite dragging Imogen down the street. She was crying, but silent, and he couldn't stand it. It was completely mad what he was thinking, but somehow, he did it anyhow.

Gloves and the skills from three years doing a combined degree in electrical engineering and animal biology (more the engineering than the anatomy and behavioural study), got him into the Clarke home, more mansion than house, the alarm on the door disabled. It wasn't hard to find Imogen's room, or to break in past the locks on the bloody outside of her door, since he'd been breaking into places to set pranks for years.

"Imogen?" he whispered, hearing a muffled whimper and horrified to find that she'd not only been locked into the room, she'd been locked into her own wardrobe.

She stared, silent and shocked as he knelt and hastily collected a change of clothes for her, stuffing it into a rucksack. Finally she asked, "J - Jake?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "It's me. I'm taking you away, so you've got to be really quiet, okay?"

She nodded, and when he picked her up, she clung to him like a limpet. Jake hurried away, getting to the edge of town where he'd left the car he was 'borrowing' from the headmaster. Once they were on the road, he reviewed his plan. He knew how to do it all in theory, the only question was, would Imogen and Lettie and the universe cooperate? They drove until dawn, at which point he left the car in a small copse of trees out of sight of the road, then hastily put on a hat and purchased train tickets for them both, heading out to Lettie's home.

He knocked on the door when they got there, and she answered, took one look at him and Imogen and said, "So, you're clearly in more trouble than usual."

Imogen had fallen asleep, and Jake ignored Lettie for the moment, taking her up to the familiar room at the top of the stairs. Then he came downstairs and dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. "Yeah, I'm in trouble." He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and said, "I kidnapped her."

Lettie was walking to the table with the tea and detoured to slap him on the back of the head. "Why did you do it and what help do you need from me?" she asked calmly.

"That's why I love you, Lettie," Jake said, rubbing the area he could have half sworn was coming out in a lump. "I can rely on you to help, and to beat me half to death."

"What do you expect?" she asked. "Jake, I love you as if you were my own son, but even Connor, God rest his soul, wouldn't have got away with starting out like that with me."

So he explained, and when he was done, Lettie looked at him thoughtfully. "It's just as well, I suppose, that I'd moved away before he died and so few people here are even aware of him." A moment more, and she said, "So, I assume you'll be saying that Margaret's her mum?"

"Margaret was Conn's girlfriend," Jake admitted. "It would make sense, and you know he would've taken in their daughter in a heartbeat."

"She would," Lettie said, nodding. "Alright, Jake. I'll do it. You just take the next couple days to do what you need to, and then . . . we'll go from there."

"Jake?" came a soft voice from the stairs. They both looked up. Imogen was standing there, looking lost and confused.

"Hey sweetheart," Jake said. She reached for him, and it was instinct to pick her up and feel her clinging on. "We were talking about a few things to do with you." He went back to his chair and turned Imogen to look at Lettie. "Imogen, I want you to meet Laetitia Temple, who's doing me a really big favour. Lettie, this is Imogen Clarke."

"Delighted to meet you," Lettie told her. "Call me Lettie, everyone does that I like."

Imogen giggled. "Delighted to meet you too," she said.

"Are you hungry?" Lettie asked, "It's a little late in the day, but since you've been sleeping, you'll probably want breakfast."

"Yes, please," said Imogen softly.

Jake sighed. "Sweetheart, we have to talk about some really important things," he said. "Like what we're going to do now that I've got you away from your dad."

"What are we going to do?" she asked, looking frightened. "My dad always finds out about everything. I shouldn't have gone with you, but you're nice and I just wanted to pretend that I had a real dad who wants me and-"

"Shh," Jake soothed. "He doesn't have to find out where you are, if you help me."

She sniffled, but perked up slowly. "How can I help?"

"Well, you see, we're going to hide, not by running away and staying in a cave somewhere where there's bats and rats and snakes and things," Jake explained, "We're going to pretend we're other people. So when someone goes looking to find Jake Cosgrove and Imogen Clarke, they won't find them." Lettie put the eggs, bacon and toast down and a glass of chocolate milk for Jake and Imogen each. While Imogen slowly ate her eggs, sopping up yolk with her toast, Jake went on. "Lettie's my best mate's mum. Only, see, my best mate died a while ago."

Imogen gasped. "That's sad," she said. "Do you miss him?"

"Very much," Lettie said, her dark eyes wet. "But Jake's been wonderful, always coming by to make sure I'm not by myself."

Jake smiled at her. "It's not like it's horrible to come here. You're practically as much my mum as my real mum is." He turned to Imogen. "You see, Conn and I, we looked a lot alike. If we dressed the same and did up our hair the same and made sure to wear a hat, people would sometimes mistake us for each other."

"You're going to pretend that you're your friend?" she asked.

He nodded. "And Lettie's going to help by letting people think she's my mum for real." He took a deep breath. "And we'll tell everyone that I'm your dad-"

He was cut off by the small form hurtling into his lap. "You mean it?" she asked.

"I mean it," he told her. "And so we'll pick out a new name for you. Like Gertrude," he teased, laughing as she made an 'ick' face.

"Don't be horrible," Lettie told him. She turned to Imogen. "I've got a baby names book, we can look through that and you can pick something. Keep in mind, it has to go with Temple for your last name."

"I can stop being Imogen for real?' she asked, happily. "Brilliant!"

"You're a bad influence," Lettie told Jake mildly. "You need to get started on that computer stuff of yours?"

Jake nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Can I leave you with Lettie a bit?" he asked Imogen. "Only, I've got some things to do, and she'll probably be better help picking out a good name for a girl than me."

She looked a little apprehensive, but agreed, and Jake headed upstairs to start covering up his tracks. In short order, he'd begun deleting himself from existence along with Imogen. Starting with hospital files and working gradually up to his university one. Once they didn't exist anymore on any computer he could access, then he'd have to start creating things from scratch, and that would require finding as many people as possible who had died to make up the paper trail.

When he finally took a break, he came downstairs to be greeted by a smiling Lettie in the living room. She pointed towards the little girl Jake suddenly realised he'd taken full responsibility for, and said, "It's a girl," she told him brightly. "Let me introduce Caitlyn Rose Temple."

Her previously waist-length brown hair had been trimmed much shorter and was in adorable pigtails, the prissy dress she'd been wearing had been replaced somehow with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with a jumble of dinosaurs on it and her normally glum little face sparkled with excitement. She looked like a completely different person, and for the first time, Jake felt really sure they'd pull it all off.

* * *

Once Jake, (Connor, he had to keep reminding himself), had finished erasing himself from the files of the world, he had to effectively build up and merge his life with Connor's. It involved a few things, not least of which was finding dead doctors to do checkups and dead schoolteachers to give him better grades and reports, dead testing authorities to give him graded GCSEs and just generally making sure that there was almost no one on the paper trail who was accessible to question about the validity of the various statements, including the death certificate he had to get revoked.

Caitlyn (nee Imogen) was another one who had to have a life carefully aligned. He had to create a false history of pregnancy for Connor's girlfriend who'd died in the same car accident as he did, find closed hospital wards and dead doctors to fill in all of Caitlyn's history. Luckily she was only four, so there was no need to fake much in the way of school records and the like.

Through all this, Jake - Connor, damnit, had a crash course in parenting.

At first it was easy. Caitlyn, still nervous about how she'd be punished if she misbehaved, happy to be safe and cared for properly, didn't act out at all. It was a relief, of course. Connor had seen those other children at the nursery school and primary, thought he knew just how bad it could get and figured he'd lucked out with the best behaved child in the history of the world.

When he said this, Lettie laughed, and said, "Just don't hesitate to call me. Unless it's after midnight." Then she walked away cackling, and a sense of foreboding fell over him.

It started slowly. Instead of one story at bedtime, she wanted two, and Connor was happy to oblige her that. When she asked for dessert after dinner one night, Connor was happy to produce some chocolate biscuits. When she had a bad dream, he let her climb into bed with him and curl up with her new dad so she'd feel safe.

That last one seemed to twig something for her, and Caitlyn started getting pushy. When she didn't get dessert every night, the complaints began, the whining.

"But Dad," she whinged, "I hate courgettes. I don't want them. I won't eat them."

"They're good for you," said Connor, who also hated courgettes, but ate them at Lettie's because she was like a second mother to him and she could ravage anyone verbally with the best of them.

"I don't care," she said obstinately.

Not wanting to argue, Connor leant over and whispered in her ear, "I hate them too, so we won't have them at home. But do what Lettie . . . your grandmum says, because she's a scary lady when she's upset. Ow." The sharp rap on the back of his head made him quiet and silenced Caitlyn as a consequence.

Then the tantrums started. Connor tried ignoring them, tried naughty step tactics, tried reasoning with her and pleading. Nothing worked, and Lettie, who'd been more one for a sharp rap to the head or a spanking, admitted she was worried about using that on a girl who'd already been abused, because it might just set everything back. They withheld desserts and suffered through more fits and demands until Connor snapped.

He was in the midst of setting up a very delicate piece of identity work, something that needed monitoring of the firewall, juggling bits and pieces of code and could get him in a lot of trouble, because these were census files and such, and with the need for confidentiality were far more secure than most things.

Caitlyn was at the office door, screaming the house down because he was ignoring her, and Lettie had gone out shopping, so there was no one to pull her away. He finished up to the sound of her furious shrieks, then whipped around, furious. "Stop that right now!" he snapped.

"You're not listening-"

"Do you want to go back to Clarke's?" he demanded. "Because if you do, keep it up."

The threat shocked her into silence. "You said you wouldn't take me back," she finally ventured.

"I won't have to, if you keep interrupting me when I'm working on this," Connor said grimly. "What I'm doing is hard, and complicated, and if I get caught at it, they'll take you away back to him, and I'll be sent to prison."

"But-"

"But nothing," Connor told her. "And just for the fact that I may not have got this right because you were screaming in my ear, you're not just getting no dessert tonight, you're getting no stories at all before bedtime, and since you're so determined to be in here with me, you get to sit, quietly, right here, watching me until I'm done. No books, no toys, no nothing."

She was very quiet that evening and even went to bed without a fuss. "What happened?" Lettie finally asked.

Connor rubbed his forehead. "I may have sort of threatened her with going back to her father's."

"Ja - Connor," Lettie may have been the one to suggest they all start using the false names all the time at once, but she had a lifetime of calling him Jake, and he wasn't Connor, never would be. "You said you weren't going to, and you were right not to."

"I know," he said, sighing. "But I was hacking the census figures, taking her out of them and shifting her over to Connor . . . my . . . household when she started pitching a fit. I'm not sure I didn't leave some big markers behind that I was in the system and I just blew up. Warned her that if could be her fault if we got caught by the police and all -"

"And that she'd be taken back if you were caught," Lettie caught on. "I think that may have been a good idea, actually."

He frowned at her, confused. "How come?"

"Because she's still a young child, and I don't know if she really understands how important it all is," Lettie explained. "Right now, I expect she's pushing partly to see whether we'll crack and act like her father did, but it's also because she doesn't know how to judge what's important and what isn't, what you interrupt an adult for or don't." She slumped down. "Still, I'm getting too old for this. I should be playing at spoiling my grandkids, not being her mum."

"I'm sorry," he told her, contrite. "I just threw this all in your lap, didn't I?" he asked.

"Jake," she said, "You're just as important to me as Conn was, and I'd help you with anything as important as this. And a lot that's less important."

"Still," he said with a sigh, "We'll be getting out of your hair soon enough. I've finished up everything, and all that's left is transferring 'Connor' from Sheffield out to Met Central University for the last year in undergraduate studies."

"London?" she said, surprised. "You're going that far? I thought maybe Leeds or . . . somewhere a bit closer."

He shook his head. "I've got to get far away, and I know that Connor would have gone for his PhD in something to do with paleontology in the end. He was always more gutsy than me, doing the engineering second honours focus just for the safe fallback."

"He was," she chuckled. "So, you'll be taking his risk for him?"

A sad smile crossed his face. "I should make sure our database is good for something, yeah?"

* * *

So, a few weeks later it was all done. The 'replacement' identifications, birth certificates, driver's license and what-all had arrived in the mail, Jake no longer sporting his clothing, but Connor's that Lettie hadn't the heart to be rid of, and Caitlyn, now sporting the nickname Lynn and dressed like Connor in miniature were on their way to a new life in London.

Connor had had to add a few extra layers of hiding after Clarke had showed up, accusing Jake of kidnapping Imogen. With all his concern, he decided to compartmentalise Lynn and his academic life as much as possible, since the academic community could be very small at times and he didn't want any rumours leaking back to his old stomping grounds. So, now he was stuck in the sort of council flat that gave government housing a bad name, on a student budget, and no way to claim assistance from much of anyone besides Lettie.

He struck gold in the nice lady down the hall, who was happy to babysit for him when Lynn wasn't in nursery school and Connor had to be in classes, exams or working part time to fill in the gaps.

They'd got settled in, with a few tantrums and tempers from Lynn, who wasn't at all used to such squalid surroundings, and was cynical enough at the age of five (her birthday had passed over the summer), to give him the evil eye when he suggested something as stupid as pretending it was an adventure.

Admitting shamefacedly to her teachers that he'd been a stupid teenager, who'd done a few stupid things, and that was why he had a five-year-old daughter while he was still twenty-three, Connor was meticulous about being an attentive parent and being seen to do all the right things. The last thing he wanted was to have anyone think to call child services down on him to investigate. Consequently, he had a nasty shock when a redheaded man in jeans plopped down next to him on a bench at the park while he was watching Lynn on the swings and doing his readings for his next class.

"Afternoon Mr. Cosgrove," he said.

Jake felt the blood drain out of his face. "You one of Geoffrey Clarke's people?" he asked. It didn't even occur to him to try bluffing until after it was too late.

The man shook his head. "DC Daniel Quinn," he said.

"That's almost worse," Jake said with a sigh. "You come to take me in, then?"

"Personally," Detective Quinn said, "I'm more interested right now in the real story."

"The . . . real story?" Jake asked, hesitantly. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," Detective Quinn told him, "That I found it interesting that the little girl's room back home hadn't been slept in or lived in at all, looked pretty much for show to me, but her wardrobe, that looked plenty lived in. More like something had been trying to get out of it. Then when I caught up to you," he turned and flashed Jake a companionable look, "Nice job on hiding by the way, I'm not sure any of our witness protection people could have done much better."

"Er . . . thanks?"

"Anyhow," the man continued, "I found her, and she seems pretty keen on you. Likes you a lot, never seems to act like she's afraid of you or anything. Calls you 'dad' without a single thought about it. So, why is that? If she's been taken from a loving home and all, why's she so happy here?"

"He was abusing her," Jake said, and the whole story spilled out. Between one moment and the next, everything, the police corruption, the way no one did anything, Clarke's apparent power in the area, Jake's fears that if he'd gone to the police it would get swept under the rug and both he and Imogen would suffer for it, it all came out. Detective Quinn listened, getting steadily more focussed and more angry.

"Right," he said. "I'm going to look into this, and you'll stay in London and keep on as you have. You run, I'll run you to ground. That clear?"

"Just so's I'm clear," Jake replied, "You're not arresting me? You're not taking her back?"

"No." That much was definite. "I'm checking out your story, then I'll report them to internal investigations if I can, and then we'll see." He looked Jake in the eye. "What I do know, is that right now I do believe you were rescuing her and that you didn't see any other options." He stood, grinning in a friendly way again, and said cheerfully, "I'll see you around, Temple."

He sagged down on the bench in relief. This being in hiding was extremely stressful.

A week later, a knock at the door interrupted Lynn's declarations that, "I hate you! You don't let me do anything! I just want to go to Jackie's for a sleepover!" (on a school night no less, and neither girl had her parents' permission when they made their plans).

Lynn was throwing toys at the door to her bedroom when Connor let the detective into his flat. "Trouble in paradise?" Quinn asked with a tired-looking smirk.

"She thinks I ought to let her stay overnight at a friend's on a Wednesday evening when she's got school the next day," Connor said with a shrug. "Let - Mum thinks that, now that she's allowed friends and to visit them, she's testing her boundaries all over again, since Clarke never let her have any friends at all."

"You'll have to watch those slip-ups," Quinn said, suddenly dropping to Connor's couch. "I got nowhere. That man's got all the regional authorities in his pocket, not just the police. Worse," he said heavily, "I can't figure out what he's doing out there that needs it. But who has that kind of pull already set up if they don't need it?"

"No smoke without fire?" Connor asked.

Quinn nodded. "Seems like. I tried to report things, and it just got cancelled by a councillor on behalf of a few groups."

"Hell," Connor said, joining him on the couch. It was the only place to sit besides the chairs at the table he and Lynn ate at.

"So, I snarled up the paperwork and investigations looking for you instead," Quinn added.

His heart skipped a beat as he breathed, "Thank you."

Quinn looked around the cracked walls, stained ceiling, windows with gaffer tape to seal the cracks at the frames where the wind would come through and freeze them both come winter, and said, "As much as looking into that berk even more makes me sure she's better off here, I wish I could do more for you."

Connor smiled. "Knowing that no one's coming for us at the moment's good enough. But," he added, joking, "It'd be nice to have a back-up babysitter. I can't trust Miss Kirkpatrick down the hall to always be available when I need her, and since she's gone most of next week, I'm going to have to pay someone to pick Lynn up from school at three on Tuesday, and stay with her on Wednesday and Thursday evenings while I've got classes."

Friday morning of the week after, Lynn declared that Danny was the coolest babysitter ever, and could he keep looking after her instead of Miss Kirkpatrick?

* * *

In time everything settled. Lynn got used to having friends and a dad who cared and the squalid conditions. In consultation with Lettie and some of the more experienced parents at her school, he was reassured she'd hit a pretty normal balance for a child her age between acting out and being good. Actually, she was pretty brilliant, especially for her age, and over the summer when she turned seven, Connor was practically bullied by several teachers at her school into shifting her into a different school, further away, with a more competitive curriculum and catering to a supposedly better class of people. All Connor cared at that point, was that it was still free for him, because he simply wasn't making enough to pay any sort of tuition costs.

Meanwhile, his classes at uni were brilliant. He'd made new friends, and between Lynn's friends' parents, Danny and Miss Kirkpatrick, he managed to hang out and have a social life from time to time. It was actually due to a teacher education development day, whatever they were being called, that landed on a Friday, and Connor had been happy enough to let Lynn spend the day and sleep over at Jackie's, that allowed him to propose heading out to the Forest of Dean with professor Cutter and his assistant.

It wasn't until they were tracking the gorgonopsid that Connor had a flash of realisation. And when Stephen asked him if he was coming, he froze a moment, then lied. Because he didn't want to let Stephen go without someone to watch his back, but Connor was no action hero, and what would Lynn do if he got himself hurt? "You, mighty hunter. Me, I'm more logistics and, you know, backup," he said.

He felt terrible watching Stephen go, but he had to think of Lynn. When the bloody thing showed up at the anomaly site, scattering everyone in a desperate attempt to get away, he was sure he'd been right. It didn't stop him from wanting to be part of it all, though.

When Lynn came home, Connor wrapped his arms around her and hung on for dear life. "How was Jackie's?"

"Good. Are you going to let go?" she inquired.

"In a minute."

She was clever, his girl. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

Lynn wriggled away. "You're acting weird, Dad."

He laughed a little. "I am. Sorry. It's just been a bit of a scary day or two. I'm just happy to see you."

"Scary!" she exclaimed, "Scary how? What happened?"

"Weird stuff," he told her. "And I signed this contract thing that says I can't tell anyone."

"Not even me?" she asked. "I wouldn't tell. You know I'm good at secrets."

"I know you are," he said regretfully. "But this is really big. Big like when we both started hiding from your dad, big."

"He's not my dad," she declared. "You are. I remember, when I first started at school, there was a whole day we spent talking about adopted kids. Your parents are the people who take care of you and stuff. You do that. He never did."

"And he wasn't cool enough to have Gertrude, over there," he said, jerking his head at the full-sized model of a Jurassic Park velociraptor that his old friend whose life he was living, had bid for and won online just days before he died. They'd set it up at the front door after much discussion, agreeing that anyone breaking in would get a scare in the dead of night, walking into the lifelike model. Intermittently she was used as a hat rack.

The topic of his frightening day was dropped, and they had dinner.

But Connor wanted to bring Tom and Duncan in on it, tried to convince his two friends, the only ones he'd wound up telling about Lynn (though not the real truth, just his story of teenaged indiscretion), but they didn't buy it. He was sitting with Abby, having phoned Stephen about the potential incursion, when his phone started ringing. He broke off what he was saying, which was actually probably a good thing, considering all the luck he'd had flirting with her, to answer. "Hey, what's up?"

"Dad, Tom and Duncan are trying to trick you!"

"What?" Connor frowned, turning away from Abby a smidge. "What do you mean?"

"When they were last staying over, you know, when you had that exam? They were talking about the weird animal sighting web site and a whole bunch of things. When I told Danny, he said it sounded like they're trying to prank you."

The growling noise made Abby startle and for a moment Connor froze. Then suddenly he realised what was going on. "Thanks Lynn." Glaring, he started storming to the bushes, just as Cutter and Stephen showed up. "Tom! Duncan! I can't believe you'd do this to me!"

There they were, crouched in the bushes, making an idiot of him. Abby was next to him a moment later. "You idiots!" she snapped. "This isn't some stupid joke!"

Not that either his or Abby's pleas did any good. Cutter still threw him off the team before things had barely begun. He stormed home in a bad mood, flopping onto the bed once he'd thanked Danny for once again being there to babysit. "Did you have a bad day?" Lynn asked. "'Cause mine was good. Danny took me out for ice cream and I got to have the swings all to myself the whole afternoon. I think I nearly made it over the top today."

"Did you?" Connor asked. "You get all your homework done too?"

"Everything but the maths," she said, making a face.

He sat up, pushing away his pique, because while dinosaurs were his and Conn's dream, this was all for Lynn. She deserved better than to listen to him moaning about Tom and Duncan being utter berks. "Then let's get the maths done, and we can watch a film and have pizza after." They argued about which film and she won, and that was how they wound up watching Barbie: Island Princess while Connor muttered about the flying peacock, the unnaturally speedy elephant, why, if all the other animals could talk the dolphins couldn't and agreeing with Lynn that if real rats were like the ones in the film, they'd want one for a pet.

The phone call from Claudia Brown came as a shock. "Hello?"

"Mr. Temple," she said crisply. "In spite of whatever may have happened, I've been told we need your database to figure out what's poisoned Stephen and find something to apply a proper antivenin. We need you down here, right now."

"Poisoned?" he gaped.

Lynn's head came up from where she'd been watching the mother and daughter reunite onscreen. "Poison?" she echoed.

Internally cursing, Connor said, "I'll be down as soon as I can." He hung up and hurried down the hall, knocking on the door. "Vivian?" he knocked on Miss Kirkpatrick's door.

The older woman opened a minute later. "Connor? Is something wrong?"

"One of my . . . friends is in a bit of trouble," he said hastily. "I really hope you're free to watch Lynn for a bit, because I've got to go."

"Oh, of course," she said. "That bad?"

"He's in hospital," Connor said, hoping he wouldn't have to go into more detail than that.

"Bring her right over, then," she told him. She'd long since declared that Gertrude the Raptor gave her the willies and she wasn't going to spend any evening sitting next to her.. "It's no trouble. We'll watch the telly and everything'll be fine. You'll see."

He raced back to his flat and told Lynn. "I'm really sorry, but I've got to go. Stephen's in a lot of trouble and they need me to help."

"Who's Stephen?" she asked, watching him in some bemusement as he collected some things for her and stuffed them in her favourite dinosaur rucksack.

"Someone I work with, sort of," Connor explained. "I'm so sorry, Lynn."

At Miss Kirkpatrick's door, she suddenly turned and hugged him. "Love you Dad."

"Love you too, sweetheart," Connor said, then hurried off. It turned out that the guesses from the fossil record weren't sufficiently accurate to the behaviour of the arthropleura, and Connor had to make a mental note to adjust that. Staring at the anomaly, standing next to Cutter, he pleaded his case again.

"I just want to help." He thought of the real Connor, the one he was pretending to be, and knew his friend would have wanted this just as much as he did. They'd both loved dinosaurs, built the database together, wanted to be the dynamic dinosaur duo and his friend would have scolded him for not even trying. Would have been bold enough to not think twice at any of the risks that had been taken that day, just for the chance to see these things.

"You did a good job," Cutter said.

The exultation made him say stupid things, but he didn't care. _This is for you, Conn_.

* * *

Connor limped out of the hospital, very headachy, not quite sure how he was going to get home, hell, not even sure how he was going to get up the stairs to his flat, but determined to get back to Lynn. He'd promised he'd be home that evening for her, and he intended to keep that promise. Still, he wasn't looking forward to the bus ride there.

As he sat waiting for the bus, a car pulled up at the stop, and he was surprised to see Claudia behind the wheel. "Connor? Did you sign yourself out of the hospital?"

"Yeah," he replied. "There's just . . . not really any point in hanging around, you know?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Didn't they say you might have a concussion from when the anklesaur-"

"Ankylosaur," Connor corrected absently.

She rolled her eyes. "The point is, you landed headfirst on a tree. Shouldn't you make sure you're alright before heading home?"

Claudia had a point, but, "There's things . . . I have to get home," he said, giving up on coming up with a good explanation around the pounding in his head.

Pausing a moment, she seemed to come to a decision. "Get in."

"What?" he asked.

"I'm starting to think I should drag you back to the hospital," she muttered. "I'll give you a lift home."

Nothing loathe, He limped over to her car and hopped in, giving her directions. When they arrived at his street, Claudia began to look rather dubious. "You live _here_?" she asked. "Can't you get a better place?"

He was being paid a sort of minimum wage from the Home Office for working on the anomaly project, but that had all gone on paying fees for school trips and Lynn's determination to take every Saturday Morning Club children's lecture series on offer at the British Museum. "Not really," he replied to the question. "There's things I've got to pay for." The look she shot him was piercing, but he was getting better at not folding under those. "Thanks for the ride," he said instead.

Halfway to the door, he stumbled, nearly falling, and an indignant and exasperated huff was his only warning as Claudia wrapped an arm around his waist, supporting some of his weight. "Let me help you in," she said, sounding put-upon. When she saw the stairs she just sighed voluminously. When they passed the drunk who pretty much lived on the landing there, because his wife wouldn't let him drink at home, she shook her head.

"Thanks," Connor told Claudia when they finally reached his door. "I appreciate the help-"

He was about to get her to leave when the door slammed open and Lynn flung herself on him. "Dad! You're home!"

Connor staggered, lost his balance as his injured leg crumpled and hit the floor hard. "Christ, Connor, what happened?" Danny said, aghast from where he'd come up behind Lynn. "You get into a boxing match with rhino?"

"No," Claudia said smoothly, "Just a misunderstanding with one of the individuals our project works with."

Danny's eyes narrowed. "And what sort of individuals would you be involving Connor here with?"

"And who might you be?" Claudia asked, all superior government sneer.

Connor tried to get Lynn into the flat, but she was watching the pair spar like it was a Wimbledon tennis match, and Connor was in no shape to pick her up and carry her off.

"Daniel Quinn, DC," Danny said, pulling out his own sneering credentials. Then smiled briefly at Lynn. "And sometime babysitter."

This, Claudia was not prepared for. It was one thing to face down and intimidate some random idiot on the street, but a police detective wasn't a nobody to be intimidated unduly. "I'm sorry to tell you that's classified."

"Right," Danny said slowly. "Just so we're clear on this, Miss, but classified won't wash very long with me if Connor comes home battered up like that very often."

"Danny," Connor hastily interrupted, "It's alright. It was just me being stupid and not letting Stephen do what he does-"

"Bloody hotdogging idiot," Claudia muttered.

Danny shot them both a look, then said, "I'd stick around, but my shift starts soon. I'll see you later, Connor, Katydid," he finished with his nickname for Lynn.

Claudia took in the way Connor was leaning on the wall and Lynn's anxious looks and said, "Right, come on," and looped her arm around his waist again, helping him in the door, then stifling a shriek as they ran into Gertrude. "What the?"

"That's just Gertrude," Lynn said amiably. "She's there to scare off burglars. Works too," she commented idly. "When Greg from upstairs tried to break in and steal some stuff for drug money she scared him good."

Connor frowned. "When was this?"

"Last week. I was with Miss Kirkpatrick when he ran down the hall screaming about monsters." Then she continued with, "What did happen, Dad? You're hurt. And who's this?"

"Still can't tell you," he told her. "And this is sort of my boss, Claudia Brown. Claudia, my daughter, Caitlyn."

To her credit, Claudia didn't explode. "Nice to meet you," she said briskly. "How old are you?"

"Seven," said Caitlyn. "Why are you asking?"

"Lynn," Connor scolded, "That's rude, and she's twitting me, not you."

"That's not better," Lynn said, quite dryly.

"She's seven going on seventy," Connor told Claudia. "I know I promised you Xbox tonight, but can you wait a bit?"

"Okay," Lynn said. "I just got the next book that unicorn series anyhow."

When Lynn had vanished into her room, Claudia shook her head. "I can't believe it. You're a father?"

"Have been for a few years now," Connor told her honestly. "I don't like to bring her up with everyone else. People don't say nice things when you do one stupid thing as a teenager."

"Where's her mother?" Claudia asked. "Unfit?"

The slight snideness made Connor reply baldly, "Dead."

"I'm sorry," she told him contritely. "But Connor, you can't seriously be planning to keep raising her here."

"What am I supposed to do?" he demanded. "How much money do you think I have access to? I'm a student, Claudia. The Home Office isn't paying any of us that much because we all have other jobs, so to speak."

She sighed. "You have a point, of course, but . . ."

Connor shook his head. "I think the one thing that I really hate most about having to be here is the time it takes Lynn to get to school in the morning. She's going to William Gladstone Primary, and it's on the other side of London."

"That's not a public school, though," Claudia said. "You're certainly making enough to be in a better grade of council flat than this as long as she stays in a state-funded school."

"Not as long as I'm paying for her to go to the Saturday morning children's lectures at the British Museum," Connor countered. "I wish I'd had them. It's really cool and fun and she loves it. How can I say no?"

"And ballet class?" Claudia asked, picking up the bag with its pink and black dance clothes.

"The girls in her class all go, so she wanted to," he said. "I don't really know anything about girl . . . stuff."

Lynn poked her head into the room. "He's bad at girl things. I keep having to go to Jackie's before recitals so her mum can do my hair and makeup and things."

"Were you listening?" Connor asked her, trying to look severe. "Because that's rude."

"You're not talking quietly and you know everyone can hear everything upstairs and downstairs from us," she shot back.

Now that she was getting an attitude about it all, he shot her a dark look. "Keep this up and it's no pizza for a month." Lynn sighed, the most put-upon seven-year-old ever to walk the earth, but retreated to her room and her book again. "She learned that from Violet down the hall," Connor told Claudia.

The O'Neills the floor above started their nightly screaming fight, ending early this time with the shattering crash of one of them throwing a bottle at the other and the slam of a door. It was like it was a signal for every frightening thing going on about the neighbourhood to be hinted at in the sounds erupting all about. Claudia's lips tightened. "That's it," she said firmly. "I live four blocks away from that school and I have a house full of empty rooms. You're packing up tonight and coming home with me, the pair of you."

"Wha'?" Connor was aware he was gaping like some sort of idiot yokel, but . . . "Are you . . . what . . . just like that?"

"Now, Connor," declared Claudia sharply. It was like all that government authority she had came down on his head like a tonne of bricks, and suddenly, he and Lynn were packed up and in her car. "You can come back and collect the rest of your things tomorrow," she told them both.

"Including Gertrude?" asked Lynn. "We can put her by your door to discourage burglars like at ours."

"She makes a charming hat rack," Connor put in.

Claudia looked speculatively at them both while at the stoplight. "I'll consider it."

Her house was a tall, narrow, semi-detached piece of ornamental brickwork. Inside it was warm and homey and made Connor feel quite suddenly homesick for Lettie's or even the Cosgrove home where he'd grown up. The walls had that old wallpaper from the 80s with flowers on it, wooden cupboards and finishes and comfortable-looking furniture. Lynn, despite the excitement of the move and her intrigue with Claudia was fading fast, and Connor said, "It's really past her bedtime, Claudia. Can we get her to bed?"

"M'not tired," grumbled Lynn with her eyes mostly closed. Soon enough her teeth were brushed and face washed and Connor tucked her into the twin bed with its white sheets and blanket, kissed her forehead and left her to sleep curled around her favourite stuffed sauropod.

He staggered as the whole evening suddenly came crashing down on him and the headache he'd been ignoring took a turn towards the territory of a migraine. "Connor," Claudia said gently from behind him, "Don't make me have to wrestle you into bed the way you just did Lynn."

"Right," Connor agreed as he staggered towards the room designated as his. He put on a t-shirt and boxer shorts and just crawled under the covers. Over the course of the night, he was vaguely aware of Claudia coming in and waking him to check on his possible concussion, but the pain and excitement had left him too tired to think much on it. When he finally woke properly he'd not only missed getting Lynn up and ready to leave for school, he was late to the Home Office, too.

"Where the hell have you been?" demanded Cutter when he showed up finally.

Before he could formulate a response to that, Claudia swept in. "He was resting, considering the beating he took yesterday I would say it was well-earned."

Cutter stared. "How do you know?"

"Because he was still sleeping when I left this morning. Did you find my note?" she asked Connor.

"Er . . . yeah," Connor replied slowly. "Thanks for telling me where things were. And . . ." he took in a deep breath, because Claudia's help meant that Lynn wasn't in that terrible flat anymore. "Thanks for letting u - me stay."

She smiled, patting his arm companionably. "It's no trouble, Connor. Anyhow, it's just me rattling around in that house I inherited from my Aunt Frannie. I could do with the company."

Connor leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Was it much trouble getting Lynn off to school this morning?"

"Not at all," she told him. "I know how to braid hair with ribbons, after all."

Lynn had craved the girly trimmings of pink ribbons and unicorns, stickers and fairies and princesses and all. Between them, she now dressed like a miniature pink and purple Connor Temple, her own lavender fedora jauntily perched on her head most days and powder pink fingerless gloves and a variety of pastel waistcoats to go over things, but he couldn't do her hair up in ribbons or bake pony-shaped biscuits. Having someone help do her up with all the girly bits and bobs she wanted of a morning would have been enough to ensure cooperation.

"Thanks for that, too."

Cutter's jaw was hanging open. He closed his mouth finally, then asked, after watching them whisper to each other, "Claudia, are you . . . you're not . . ."

"Yes?" she asked, a tad archly.

"Are you sleeping with Connor?" he abruptly demanded. Stephen, passing by, stopped dead staring at the three of them, eyes wide, then hastily beat a retreat down the hall.

Appalled, Claudia declared, "Just for the sheer gall of asking me that here and now, Nick, I'm not going to tell you." She turned to Connor. "I'll see you at home this evening and we'll see about moving the rest of your things in." Then she strode off, leaving Connor alone with a positively steaming Nick Cutter.

Connor fled.

* * *

Living with Claudia was a bit of an adjustment for everyone, not least of which Claudia, who was rather dismayed at the appearance of Gertrude in the front hall. She developed rather an affection for the raptor after missionaries responded to her answering the door by running away, however.

Connor discovered rather a lot about women and girly things he'd never even suspected. Because Claudia began to fill in the gaps with Lynn, teaching her about dresses and makeup, fashion and all sorts of girly pink things he'd never imagined existed. Lynn's wardrobe, previously essentially the same as Connor's but in varying shades of pinks, purples and pastels, suddenly spouted pretty red dresses, and the little pink fedora was sometimes replaced with brightly coloured barrettes and ribbons.

Danny approved of the new home, flirting outrageously with Claudia, who was rather flattered at the attention, and in her pique at Cutter's implication she'd sleep with someone Connor's age like some sort of woman who was living the delusion she was still in her twenties, she'd taken to cheerfully discussing Danny's charms with Abby, (who was amused enough to play along) and Connor (who usually degenerated to pleading with Stephen to do something to get him out of it). Claudia also helped Connor in his ongoing campaign to get Danny to stop taking Lynn down to the police station, where she was the sometime mascot and learned to make very bad coffee.

In spite of his earlier troubles with them, though, Connor had remained friends with Tom and Duncan, who would do in a pinch if there was no one else about to babysit Lynn.

That was why Connor had a heart attack when Duncan asked him to meet in the university library and told him all about taking the dodo and Tom going completely mental. "What did you do with Caitlyn?" he demanded, even as he hastily dialled the line to the Home Office.

"I dropped her back with Miss Kirkpatrick at your old place," Duncan assured him. "You're not calling the police?"

Knowing his daughter was safely away somewhere let Connor focus on the problem at hand. "This is way beyond them, now," he informed his friend.

They all ran about like chickens with their heads lopped off, and after seeing Tom die like that, seeing how close Tom came to being a bullet-ridden corpse, the last thing Connor wanted to do was head into the Home Office to file any sort of report. He just wanted to go collect Lynn and bring her home and cuddle her on the couch in front of the telly watching some irredeemable girly picture with her. But if he didn't do it now, he'd just have to do it later and it would be worse when the numbness had worn off.

"Temple, my office at once," said Lester sharply.

"I'll talk to him," Stephen offered, all sympathy for once.

Connor shook his head. "It's like the reports. If it doesn't happen now, it'll just be waiting for me later."

"Alright," Stephen said dubiously.

He smiled weakly at the other man, then went to his doom.

The door closed behind him, and suddenly Lynn was clinging to him. "Dad! I was so scared! Tom started acting all weird and I'm really sorry we followed you, but I wanted to know what you do and the dodo was cute and all the books say they weren't dangerous so I didn't think it was so bad that they took it and then it made Tom go all mad and Duncan took me to Miss Kirkpatrick's, but Tom knows where that is, and I didn't want to be somewhere he knew to find me so I came here."

He'd already dropped to his knees, hugging her back and manoeuvring them to the chair in front of Lester's desk, where she snuggled into his lap. "How'd you get here?" he asked.

"You gave me the bus money for emergencies, remember?" she pointed out. He had, at that. He'd made sure she always had two bus fares worth of money on her, just in case some horrible emergency happened and she wound up having to go somewhere by herself.

"How'd you know to come here?" he asked.

"Claudia said she works here, and you said she was sort of your boss," Lynn said, all calm logic now that she was curled up with her dad. "So, obviously you have to work in the same place she does, so I came here and asked for you. Then they sent me up here, to Mr. Lester."

Lester shot him a dark look. "Imagine my surprise when your daughter appears, Mr. Temple. Especially since there's no mention of her I can find in your file. Looking a little further, I found some very interesting-"

"James," Claudia said, as she burst through the door, "I-" she took in the scene. "Well, too late for that, I suppose," she said, then shut the door and leaned against the wall.

"I'm wondering," Lester said, "How much Ms Brown knows about this situation, Mr. Cosgrove."

It had been so long since he'd heard his real name, he'd almost forgotten. Lynn, however, flew into a panic. "Don't send me back!"

"Lynn-" he tried to soothe her, but she was already clinging to Lester in a move that looked positively bizarre to Connor.

"Don't send me back! Please!" she cried, bursting into tears. "I don't want to be locked away in my room again, I don't . . . he hurt me and Da - Jake rescued me! He doesn't hit me ever, not like Clarke! And I have friends and Danny and Claudia and I don't want to be Imogen!"

Claudia stared at all this, turning to the young man she was letting stay at her house. "Connor?"

"Perhaps," Lester said, looking quite strange as he handily picked Lynn up, cuddling her as though he were well-practiced at it, "You might explain yourself."

As his story unfolded, Lester's sharp look only intensified, while Claudia looked more and more confused every step of the way. When he got to the part where Danny had found out about the corruption of the local councillor, the look on Lester's face turned grim.

"Jacob Cosgrove," Claudia said when he'd finished. "It . . . I don't know whether to be angry or congratulatory."

Jake sighed. "Whatever you do, Lester, I'm just begging you not to let Caitlyn get sent back there. Please. I'll go to prison if I have to-"

"No!" Lynn shrieked. She wriggled away from Lester and flung herself at Jake. "We'll run away again!" she pleaded. "We can go away to Australia or something, right? Or America?"

"No one will be going to prison," Lester said, that odd look still on his face. Suddenly, he realised the only reason he found it odd was that it was on _Lester's_ face. It was sympathy. Something maybe even a little paternal. "I will speak with the Minister about this and we will determine how best to handle this all." He came over to the chair where Jake was sitting and put a hand on Lynn's shoulder. "I certainly will not send you anywhere you have been abused," he told her. Then he looked at Jake. "I will also admit to being impressed. You've fairly effectively wiped out any mention of your real identity all over the UK."

"So, we're just going to . . . let this go?" Claudia sounded confused, though not angry. Clearly the look on his face said something to her, because she smiled at Jake and said, "I'm not saying I want you prosecuted or anything else," she told him, "But . . . we're just going to . . ."

"I will have a word," Lester said, "With the authorities. It should be a relatively simple matter to ensure the official files will no longer be an issue."

"Thank you," he said, sagging in relief at this assurance.

Claudia had another question, though. "Is this why you tried to keep it all separate? Caitlyn from most people?"

He nodded. "I don't know who or where Clarke has ears and eyes, and if I could keep things separate, it might throw him off. I mean, if he ever started suspecting."

"Right," Lester said then. "So, now that this is resolved, I hope you realise you could have been arrested for violation of the confidentiality agreement you signed with the Home Office regarding the anomaly project?"

The change in subject was startling, but ultimately, this was Lester. "I know," he said. "I just . . . there are enough secrets going around for me. I hate having to keep more."

"And you wanted to show off?" Claudia asked dryly.

Lynn spoke up from where she was fiddling with a sheet of lined paper on his lap. "He wanted Duncan to help with building a detector because Duncan's an idiot savant."

"When did you hear that?" Connor asked her.

She looked at him and shrugged. "Tom always says that, you know that. I looked it up online. I think Tom's right."

Tom was dead, and he was going to have to explain that to her. Lester's face got that weird look that meant he was about to pretend he was human and not a government cyborg intent on turning everything around him into a conspiracy-ridden government white paper. "I trust you've learnt your lesson, Temple, and I'll let you head home."

Cutter, Stephen and Abby had taken the chance to flee the scene and the hallways were deserted as the three of them slipped quietly down to where Claudia had her car parked and Connor tried desperately to think of how to break it to Lynn that Tom was dead.

When they walked in past Gertrude, Claudia absently draping her jacket over the raptor's head, Connor finally had to ask, "Lynn, what's that paper you've got?"

"Mr. Lester was talking on the phone and saying nasty things to people," she explained. "So I started a list of words that I was sure were nasty but I didn't know what they meant. Mr. Lester got me a dictionary and helped me spell them."

The list read like a conversation with Lester when the man hadn't yet had his morning tea and Cutter had proposed one of his theories that were awful, but right.

He shook it off. "Sweetheart, I've got some bad news to tell you. About Tom."

She frowned. "I don't want him around anymore. He's not-"

"He won't be around," Connor interrupted. "Tom's . . . you know how after the dodo bit him he got weird?"

"Yeah," Lynn said with a shiver. "That was . . . scary."

"What?" demanded Claudia. "Why was she there?"

"Tom and Duncan were babysitting," Connor told her. "Danny's on a new shift and needs to adjust to the time and Violet wasn't going to be available for the whole stretch. Basically, it was them or no one."

Claudia made an aggravated sound of disgust. "So, they brought her along with them?"

"Would you rather they'd left her alone at their flat?" he snapped back. "They'd never once done a thing to her, and this could hardly be something they'd be able to predict."

"You're right. I'm sorry," Claudia said contritely.

"What's going on?" Lynn asked. "What about Tom?"

"The dodo made him sick," Connor told her. "Sick like . . . you know how Penny on the third floor'd get strange if she hadn't had her pills?"

Lynn nodded. "You said she was sort of sick, and that the pills were to help her stay better, but it was . . . chronic?"

"Yeah. Well, the dodo made Tom sick like that, but there weren't any pills that would make him better. He . . . the disease from the dodo it . . . it made him so sick, he just . . ." the knowledge that one of his two best friends was dead hit him like a tonne of bricks. It wasn't as bad as when Connor had died in some ways, because Connor had been family as much as a friend, but Tom was his fault.

Claudia took up the thread of the explanation when the first sob escaped Connor and Lynn started to panic. "Tom passed away this afternoon, darling."

"Passed away?" Lynn asked. "What does . . . Tom's . . . he's dead? Like the real Connor and my mum?"

"Yeah," Connor said. "There wasn't anything anyone could do."

"No," Lynn said. "No! Tom's not . . . he's nice and funny and plays Barbie Wild Horse Adventures with me without taking the mick like you and Duncan and . . . No!" she started crying, then pushed away from Connor, running up the stairs to her room and slamming the door behind her.

Connor stared after her a moment. "I feel a little like that right now myself," he said to Claudia. "You think shrieking and slamming a door would help?"

"I wish it did," she told him. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," he said hoarsely. "I'd best go up." He paused at the foot of the stairs a moment. "Can . . . she'll want to go to the funeral, I think. Can you . . . can you help get something appropriate picked out for her?"

"Of course," Claudia said with a devastatingly gentle smile.

"Thanks." He climbed after Lynn, peeking into her room to find her curled in a ball on her bed, wrapped around her plushie sauropod. "Lynn? Lynn, I'm sorry."

"Why?" she asked. "Why'd it bite Tom? Why'd it have to make him sick? The books all say dodos're nice."

"Because the dodo was sick too," Connor said. "It must've got bit by something else that was sick."

"Why didn't it bite someone else?" she demanded stubbornly. "Someone who wasn't fun and nice."

"Because Tom was in the way," Connor said. "And I'm just happy it wasn't you, and that it wasn't Duncan too. Because I don't know what I'd've done if it were you."

"Dad . . ." She crawled into his lap and cried until she fell asleep, and Connor held her while she did, murmuring nonsense to her, hoping it would be comforting, and knowing that there was nothing he could do to make it better.

* * *

Between one thing and another, Connor was rather enjoying being Claudia's housemate. Lynn called her Aunt Claudia and the few parents who'd been rather snippy with Connor, believing that his relatively young age meant he was also thoroughly irresponsible, had been browbeaten into submission by Claudia.

He disliked being a specific bone of contention between Cutter and her, if only because Cutter seemed to still be half-convinced that his erstwhile student and erstwhile girlfriend were having some sort of fling. Actually, strangely enough, Stephen seemed to think so too, or at least, he was dropping hints that way. Really, why it was anyone thought someone like Claudia, who was far too sophisticated to be interested in Connor that way, would be interested in Connor, was beyond him. And given his own interest in Abby, because he was sure Abby would get along so well with Lynn, on top of being brilliant and gorgeous and fun . . .

He shook his head. He had to stop thinking about that.

Right now he was out on a golf course with Stephen, trying to figure out what it was that had eaten that man if it wasn't the pteranodon. Connor shook his head in disbelief. Stephen had some sort of Tarzan, in tune with nature, superhero sort of thing going on where he wasn't even displacing the grass he was walking on. This distracted Connor enough as he marvelled, that he tripped over and skinned the palm of his hand as he fell.

"Ow," Connor grumbled. Seriously, was it so much to ask that he at least be able to walk upright?

"Quiet," snapped Stephen suddenly. Connor froze, then heard a rustling in the trees that wasn't wind and a squeak that wasn't any sort of animal native to England. They both looked up. In the trees was a flock of pterosaurs. "Connor, don't move."

"And then what?" he snapped. "You think you can hold off a whole flock of them by yourself?" He pulled himself to a crouch, watching the things. They were all on point, practically quivering. Worse, the point they were on was him.

Stephen's eyes were flickering back and forth between him and the pterosaurs. "They're focused on you . . ." the blue eyes widened in sudden realisation. "The blood from your hand, it's attracting them!"

Which was when they attacked. Connor fled, Stephen right next to him. As they hurtled through the woods, they stumbled over a small sort of caretaker's shed. In one of those heroic moves Connor would never try because he'd just sprain something, Stephen kicked the door open and they both dove in. It took a moment to figure out how to wedge the door shut, then they were stuck inside the shed, the squawking horrible little creatures banging into the windows.

Stephen's mobile rang. "Ryan?" His eyes widened and he stared out the window. "I would, but I'm rather stuck for the moment." There was a pause. "A flock of pterosaurs are trying to eat Connor and me alive, actually."

Connor shook his head. Stephen was being incredibly blasé about this.

"No, that's a pteranodon. These are small buggers. Like flying piranhas." Another pause. "Yes, probably." A moment later he hung up, turning to Connor grimly. "Apparently Cutter's trapped up at the lodge and he and Claudia are under attack by the pterosaurs."

"What?" Connor asked, eyes wide. He glanced out the window at the things shrieking their dismay at being denied prey.

"It gets worse. Claudia was hurt by the pteranodon. I don't know and Ryan didn't mention, but she was unconscious."

At that moment, the constant bashing on the windows paid off for the little menaces. They came bursting through the windows, and dove at the pair of them. They barely made it to the door, preferring to be in the open where there was a chance to run, and Connor noticed with some resentment that somehow Stephen was managing to stay far more free of nicks and scratches than Connor, who was being assaulted.

From the direction of the lodge on the golf course came the sound of an explosion. In a split second, Connor made a decision. The pterosaurs had killed someone, just like piranhas did. Swarming and tearing them to pieces tiny bit by tiny bit. They were being attracted by how much he was bleeding and they would probably swarm them both unless they separated. So, they were both probably going to die, and with that explosion, odds were good the pterosaurs had got into something, a boiler or some such, and had caused the explosion. Claudia might well be dead.

He was almost certainly going to die, he was pretty much shark bait . . . pterosaur bait, rather.

"Stephen! If I don't get out of this, you need to head down to William Gladstone Primary. Get Caitlyn. Temple." Then he took a deep breath and sprinted away from Stephen, diverting what seemed to be the whole flock as he ran back towards the anomaly.

"Connor!" he heard the shout behind him. Stephen was chasing after, but Connor had been running his whole childhood. Footraces, from bullies, from barking dogs and he'd kept on running on track teams. He pelted along, feeling the damned things getting in bites off his face and arms. A lucky swipe along his neck as he hit the home stretch, saw the SFs clustered around the pteranodon, and suddenly he was bleeding out. It all came together and he passed out, barely aware of Stephen pounding up behind him, cursing, and the sound of gunfire and tiny bodies dropping out of the air.

He woke up in a hospital bed. Something warm and heavy was lying on top of him. "Dad? Dad!" Lynn promptly wrapped herself around him, hugging him for all she was worth.

"Alright Lynn, be careful. He's been pretty badly hurt," Claudia said from the side.

Connor breathed a sigh of relief. "You're okay," he said to Claudia. "I thought . . . when we heard that explosion I thought you might've . . . not been okay."

"Was that why you did it?" Stephen's voice said from the door. "Because that was possibly the . . . I don't have the words to say how incredibly stupid that was."

"Dad's not stupid!" Lynn exclaimed, affronted. "He's smarter than you!" She began to mumble about stupid people who were scared of Gertrude.

Stephen came into view, and shot Lynn a look. "Most of us don't expect to be greeted at the door by a deinonychus."

"Not even one wearing a hat and coat?" Claudia asked, lips twitching a little. "I do think Lynn's right, it is an excellent burglar deterrent."

"I'm entirely certain I have no desire to know about your burglar deterrent, Temple," said Lester. He glanced around the room and said, "Lynn, since you know your father's going to be fine now, would you like to take a break, maybe get some ice cream from the canteen downstairs?"

Lynn's eyes narrowed in thought, then she said, "Okay. I can come right back, though?"

"Absolutely," Lester said. "And in the meantime, you can tell me if you're having any trouble figuring out new words for insulting people."

"Bye Dad!" Lynn said as she hopped off the bed and joined Lester, who shot all three adults a meaningful look before they left.

"I'm sorry," he said to Claudia once he was reasonably sure Lynn was out of earshot. "I was bleeding and the pterosaurs were clearly after me in particular because of it. I really thought they were going to kill both me and Stephen if we stuck together."

"And sending me to collect Lynn?" Stephen asked. "Because I have to say, I wasn't expecting a child. I was expecting you'd sent me off to tell your sister or mother about you being in hospital or dead."

"Because after the explosion . . . you'd said that Claudia and Cutter were up at the lodge, and the explosion came from there."

"You thought I was dead?" Claudia asked, a little hesitantly.

"I thought you might be," Connor admitted. "And if you were, and I was going to be dead, someone had to know to get Lynn right off, not just leave her hanging for however long it took to get her."

"Have you always been this fatalistic," Stephen asked, "Or is it some other facet of parenthood I can add to my list of reasons to avoid being one?"

"Have you always been this acerbic," Connor retorted, "Or have you been spending your spare time with Lester to learn at the feet of the master?"

Claudia glared impartially at them both. "Connor, just don't try to get yourself killed again, Lynn can't afford to lose her father and you know it, Stephen, don't twit him for trying to save your life."

"Sorry," they both mumbled at her.

"Good," she said, nodding sharply. "I'm going to make sure James doesn't teach Lynn anything _else_ that will get Connor called in for a parent-teacher conference."

There was a long silence after she left. "I'm sorry I was so cryptic," Connor said finally. "I really did think I didn't have long before the little buggers killed me."

"It's alright," Stephen told him, shaking his head. "What I won't forgive you for is sending me to those harpies in the school office."

The penny dropped. "You mean Fanny Wellesley was on duty," Connor said, nodding. "The scary lady with the radioactive carrot-coloured hair, bright red lipstick and on the prowl for a man."

Stephen shuddered. "I still feel filthy. I walked into that office, telling her I was looking for Caitlyn Temple, and the look she gave me . . ."

Wincing sympathetically, Connor patted his arm. "I know. Trust me, I know. Did she offer you a chocolate, then make that joke about aphrodisiacs?"

"She really did do that to you," Stephen said wonderingly.

"I think she'd do it to that tech, Kent," Connor said. "She's that desperate." Then he looked at Stephen. "I think you probably made her day, though."

"Who made who's day?" Lynn asked as she came back through the door, scrambling onto the bed, careful not to lose her ice cream in the process.

"Stephen and Ms Wellesley in the school office," Connor told her.

Lynn shot Stephen a considering look. "She was _touching_ Stephen when Miss Jensen brought me to the office." She took a considering spoon of ice cream, adding, "It was like in that video they showed us that time the policeman came to our class."

"Which video's that?" Connor asked, having a sneaking suspicion about it.

Taking another spoonful placidly, Lynn said, "The one about when you're supposed to scream that someone's not your mum or dad and not to touch you like that."

Knowing that vengeance from his coworker would be swift and thorough if he took the mick about that, Connor found himself shaking as he tried not to laugh. Claudia had no such compunction and was in stitches. Lester, with a small and twisted smile on his face commented to Stephen, "Really, Hart? Was it like that, then?"

"The temptation was there," Stephen admitted, wryly.

Connor couldn't hold back anymore and laughed until his stitches started to hurt.

"What's so funny?" demanded Lynn.

"I'll tell you in a few years if you still remember," Connor promised. "But right now you'd tell all your schoolmates and then people would think I was a bad parent for explaining it to you."

"Is this more becoming a grownup makes you have lots of chemicals in your brain that make you go mad stuff?" Lynn asked.

Stephen, Lester and Claudia all stared. "Becoming a grownup makes you have lots of chemicals in your brain that make you go mad stuff?" Claudia echoed. "What are you telling her?"

"Puberty makes people go mad," Connor said with a shrug. "It's the only rational explanation, really. I figure, best she knows when she's about thirteen everything's going to change, and she's all ready when she starts thinking mad things, like that boys aren't some sort of other species but are interesting to look at."

Claudia sighed. "There is so much damage control I'm going to have to do, it's not even funny."

Stephen thought about it a moment, then said, "Oddly, it makes sense."

"Never have children, Hart," Lester said.

Lynn nodded to herself. "So, it is more chemicals in your brain stuff."

"Did you tell your classmates?" Connor asked.

"No," Lynn said, shaking her head. "They wouldn't believe me if I told them. Patricia said her mum said it was a beautiful process of flowering or something, but I didn't really understand. Then she starting talking about monthly gifts or something and Patricia said she didn't really understand that part at all either."

"Of all the stupid . . ." Claudia trailed off a moment, then said, "You're not going to spend any time with Patricia's mum."

Lester and Stephen exchanged glances, and in a rare moment of perfect accord, fled the room together, leaving Connor alone with Claudia, who spent much of the afternoon querying Lynn and Connor on the precise details of what Lynn had been told about What Happens When You Grow Up.

* * *

Connor was startled awake by the sound of someone doing things in the kitchen. Making his way cautiously downstairs, he saw Claudia sitting at the table looking exhausted as she slowly stirred a cup of tea.

"I'm not sure more caffeine will help you sleep," he said.

She started, sending the cup to the floor with a crash. "Oh! Connor, I didn't see you."

"So I see," he said, edging away from the shattered porcelain on the floor. "I'll get the broom."

"Thank you," she said tiredly, starting to collect the larger pieces.

He slipped on a pair of shoes quickly and fetched the broom. He got back just in time to hear her hiss and curse. She was holding a hand, a cut on the palm where she'd been picking up bits of mug. "Hold on," he said, gently pushing her into a chair. He passed her a tissue and quickly swept up the shards and dried the floor. Then he collected the plasters from the bathroom, cleaning up the thankfully small cut and bandaging it. "There. Any particular reason you're up, or just can't sleep?"

She sighed. "Just bad dreams."

"So bad you can't sleep?" Connor asked, concerned.

Tired head on her hand, Claudia sort of shook her head against that hand. "I close my eyes and then all of a sudden, there's that gorgonopsid, trying to eat me. In the office, at home. It's like it's following me."

"Well, I think we can pretty much guarantee one's not following you. Be pretty hard to miss in London," he joked weakly. "Seriously, though. Is something bothering you?"

"I don't know," she told him. "That's part of the problem. I'm worried about Helen Cutter, I'm worried about Nick, about the whole project, but nothing I can put a finger on. If I believed in that sort of thing, I'd think I was having premonitions of some sort."

Eyebrows raised in surprise, Connor said, "You must be tired."

"I know it's foolish," Claudia said defensively. "I can't help it, though. I just . . . I keep seeing it," she told him.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I didn't mean anything by it, just that you must be tired for it to be getting to you like that."

Grinning a little, she told him, "I half expected you to tell me it was a premonition and to try to determine how."

Connor rolled his eyes. "Right. I may love speculative fiction, but I'm not that far gone." He gave her a speculative look. "Would you like me to distract you a while? See if you can't forget about it enough to fall asleep?"

"I'd appreciate it," Claudia replied. Ten minutes later they were watching Funny Face and Claudia was decrying the value of thinking pink while Connor played devil's advocate and stood up for Lynn's side of things, and more importantly, Lynn's pink fedora, which she wore when she didn't feel like wearing the lavender one.

Halfway through the film Claudia drifted off to sleep, and Connor carefully carried her up to her bed, then fell into bed himself. The next morning, while he was making some adjustments on his database, Claudia came over, and with a strategic smile at Cutter, kissed Connor on the cheek, saying, "Thank you for last night."

The look Cutter levelled at Connor could have shattered glass and he stormed off. "You know, as much as I admire you for taking on the role of dad for Claudia's daughter, it might be easier for all concerned if you both simply admitted it," Stephen said from behind him.

Connor choked. "What?"

"I'm just saying-"

"First of all, Lynn isn't Claudia's daughter, she's mine," Connor snapped, "So if anyone's _taking on_ a role, it's Claudia, and second, I'm just a pawn in her games with Cutter, so don't start on that with me."

Stephen stared. "Your daughter?"

"Yes," Connor grumbled at him. "What did you do, anyhow? Tell Cutter he's got definite proof now of the affair?"

"No," said the tracker, now hesitant. "I didn't want to get in the middle of it all, what with . . ." he paused, then seemed to rethink what he was saying. "So, you and Claudia aren't?"

"No," Connor snapped. "We're not. She saw where Lynn and I were living before and insisted on us moving in with her for Lynn's sake."

The whole conversation seemed to throw the other man off, and he avoided the topic rather strenuously for the next few days. In fact, he didn't broach it at all until they were back in the Forest of Dean. Just as Cutter was about to head through the anomaly, Claudia kissed him, and said, "Come back. I promise, I'll even explain about Connor to you. I promise, I'm really not sleeping with him."

Cutter left, some weird ironic interchange with his ex-wife going on that Connor didn't understand and didn't really want to. There was a long silence after the departure.

"So, you're both going to tell Nick the truth?" Stephen asked, breaking that silence.

Connor shrugged. "I suppose. I mean, he's been going mad." He turned to Claudia, and added with ironic stress, "Claudia."

"All right," she said with a sigh. "I was just so irritated when he leapt to the conclusion I was sleeping with you I just couldn't help letting him think it. Then he persisted."

"Nick's persistent," Stephen told her. "You'll have to get used to that, you know."

She sighed. "I know." She also got progressively more and more uneasy, pacing anxiously. Then Connor got the call from the lab that the bat predator was male. Something flashed past, too fast for anyone to see.

"What happened?" Claudia asked, as they all glanced around, uneasily.

Connor felt a moment of foreboding himself. "I'm not sure," he said, starting to scan the treetops for another bat thing.

"Did you see something?" Claudia asked Stephen.

"Nothing," he replied, beginning to look as nervous as Connor felt. Connor, as much for something to do as anything else, pulled out his compass to check the anomaly.

Claudia turned to him at once. "Is the anomaly getting weaker?"

"No. No change," he replied. They exchanged looks. All her nightmares and premonitions of doom leapt to mind at once. The anomaly pulsed, and in a moment that seemed to move so slowly he could see everything as it went wrong, and too fast to correct, a ripple expanded from the tear in the space-time continuum, too fast for Connor to do more than think he should get her through, into the past, move her outside time before she was erased, and then she was.

Claudia was gone.

But the ripple didn't stop there, because Stephen had been faster than Connor, was closer, so were the SFs. The ripple went through them too, changing them from postures and expressions of alarm, to vague concern and boredom. He had no time to react to any of it, just brace for the ripple to hit him, too.

There was a brief pang of sorrow, wondering how things would be different, and pity for Cutter, who might come back to a world he'd never recognise, then disorientation, then . . .

* * *

Connor grimaced at Leek, ever grateful Lester had kept the skeevy little man from finding out about Lynn. God only knew what he'd make of it. The man took the mick enough already, as though somehow _Connor_ were the complete loser of the pair of them.

Cutter came out of the anomaly, shell-shocked, accompanied by Helen Cutter, who proceeded to cheerfully destroy Cutter and Stephen's friendship for no reason other than that she could. "Harpy," he heard Abby mutter.

"No kidding," he muttered back while the drama unfolded.

Then Helen walked back through the anomaly, and Cutter looked around, his face suddenly concerned. "Where's Claudia?" he asked.

Connor frowned, wracking his brain for anyone involved in the project named Claudia, then expanded to his fellow students, other professors . . . nothing.

Lester's querying, "Claudia?" bore out Connor's confusion.

"Where's Claudia Brown?" Cutter demanded, suddenly anxious.

Lester raised a sceptical eyebrow at him. "I don't know anyone of that name."

Looking a little desperate, like he thought this was a joke, Cutter said, "No, come on. Where is she?"

"We really, we . . . we don't know what you're talking about," Stephen told him.

He knew it was the wrong tack, even as the words left his mouth, "Never heard of her."

Cutter lunged at Connor, grabbed his waistcoat, reeling him in and looking a lot like he was going to hit the geek. "What the hell are you talking about? You live with her!"

"Cutter, I don't know her!" Connor desperately struggled to pull away from the man. Abby came to his rescue.

"No one knows her!" she said, lunging forward to pull Cutter off him. Nick let go of him, turning to the anomaly, a look rather a lot like fear on his face.

"Wait, something's wrong," he said. He turned back to them, struggling to put into words something that might be beyond explanation. "This isn't right. Something's gone wrong. Something's happened. Something's changed. We've done something, we've . . . something that we've done has changed the past and she's not here anymore." Something about what Cutter was saying pinged something in the back of Connor's mind, it was a little like when you recognised an actor in an advert and just _knew_ you'd seen them before, but couldn't recall where. The anomaly rippled a few more times, going unstable, and Connor wondered what other upending would happen in his life, now that Cutter seemed to have become disconnected from reality.

He spared a mental apology to Lynn, because it looked like he was going to be late home again.


	2. Series 2

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything anyone recognises.

Notes: You know that explanation about brain chemistry and crazy? Yeah . . . that's what I'd tell kids about puberty. This is one of the major reasons I don't go near children. Their parents would probably kill me.

* * *

Connor got back to the flat late that evening, feeling no little bit disturbed. Danny greeted Abby and him at the door. "What happened?"

Shaking his head, Connor told the policeman, "Hell if I know. Cutter's . . . something happened to him today and I don't have the faintest clue what exactly it was or how to deal with it."

"Exactly?" Abby asked as she brushed right past Connor to check on Lynn. "How about at all?"

"I get the at all," Connor replied, "It's the details I'm not too sure of." He shook his head again. "Anyhow, thanks for sticking around, Danny."

Danny grinned. "It's alright. Katydid and I watched that Island Princess film again. That prince may be a gormless idiot, but I can't help but like the rats."

"Who doesn't?" Connor grinned.

"Me, for one," Abby grumbled. "You're just encouraging her to have bad habits and views of the role of women in-"

"Are we talking about the fact that she ran down the villain on an elephant?" Danny asked, "Or the fact that she somehow learned how to waltz from a red panda?"

"Can we not have the argument every time?" Connor asked. "Seriously. It's just a film, and I think she was heroic enough, given that Lynn's trying to become the first kickboxing ballerina to go to the Olympics."

"I'd pay good money to see that," Danny said. "I'll see you later." He hissed at Connor when Abby's back was turned a moment, "Make a move on her already!"

Before Connor could reply, Danny was gone.

He turned back to find Abby coming down the stairs from the little alcove where Lynn's 'bedroom' was. "She seems okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Abby said, smiling. "I think I'm going to just crash. What about you?"

Connor nodded. "I think so. Between Cutter, Claudia Brown and Jenny Lewis, I don't think I know which way's up anymore."

"Goodnight, then," Abby said, kissed him on the cheek, and then went off to go to bed.

While he got ready himself, Connor couldn't help but recall how he'd wound up living with Abby, who was brilliant and amazing, and if Connor hadn't had to worry about what would happen to Lynn if things fell apart for them, would have been chasing after Abby like a T-Rex after a technophobe paleontologist.

_His council flat was suddenly up for demolition and he and Lynn had nowhere to go. He'd been searching and searching, but they'd given the people living in the building almost no warning, rather like they were in Hitchhiker's Guide, informing them all that it would be demolished and the warning had been up at City Hall for a whole month, why weren't they aware? He'd've protested, but unlike Arthur Dent, he had a seven-year-old daughter to look after. Anyhow, she'd probably have stolen the improbability drive and made off like a bandit while his back was turned, so it was just as well . . ._

_. . . the panic was clearly making him punch drunk._

_Danny's place was right out, Connor had been there and a worse sort of bachelor pad he'd never seen. Abby's flat was closest, and Connor arrived there that evening, carting their clothes and things in a few suitcases, and Lynn determinedly pulling Gertrude along on her little wagon, because the raptor was now part of the family and Lynn was taking no chance of Gertrude being demolished too._

_Abby answered the door and stared, dumbfounded, at the pair of them. "Abby, please. I know it's late and sudden and all, but I need a place for Lynn and me to stay," he pleaded. "Just a few weeks until I've got a new flat."_

_"Lynn?" Abby had asked, moving aside anyways and watching Lynn march past, dragging Gertrude with her._

_"Hi," said Lynn. "I'm Caitlyn Temple, this is Gertrude," she gestured at the raptor, "And Dad says you work together, so you know him."_

_"Dad?" Abby echoed, blinking._

_Connor looked around, and in a move he was sure to regret later, but desperate to ensure Lynn had somewhere safe to sleep that night, said, "Is that Rex?" and pointed to the coelurosauravus, who seemed to be taunting the stodgy-looking iguana._

_"Is that a python?" Lynn breathed excitedly, scampering up to the tank with the snake in it. "Can I pet him? Or her? What's his name?"_

_"Burt," Abby said absently. "My iguana's called Ernie." She turned to Connor. "You have a daughter?"_

_"Yeah," Connor said. "I don't tell people 'cause most people get all snippy just because I was still a teenager when she was . . . erm . . . conceived."_

_Still looking bemused, Abby said, "Is that why you live in that trash heap passing off as a block of flats? You can't afford better with Caitlyn?"_

_"Something like that," Connor admitted. "Look, I know it's sudden, but they pretty much told us all today that they're demolishing starting tomorrow afternoon."_

_"What?" Abby demanded. "They can't do that!"_

_"They can if they pull a fast one and 'notify' us by posting the warnings and things in places no one goes," Connor said. "We might win in court, but I've got Lynn to think of, and -"_

_Abby's face softened. "I'll see what we can set up for you here."_

He hadn't even had to threaten her with blackmail over Rex, although that cat had got out of the bag when Rex had stowed away in Abby's car on the way to the golf course, leaving him and Abby hunting for the flying lizard that whole day with the pteranodons and the pterosaur.

Lynn had since taken to dropping broad hints to all and sundry, including Lester on the rare occasions she saw him, that Abby would be the perfect new Mum, because she was cool and could do up Lynn's hair in braids and things, but also liked snakes, which would make up for a multitude of sins in Lynn's opinion. She also had been delighted to put Gertrude up by the door. laughing herself sick when Stephen nearly shot it.

They'd just sent Lynn off to school, Danny having to pass right by both places, so he'd come by and dropped Lynn off for Connor. Stephen had knocked on the door and Abby had answered, still dressed in nothing but panties and vest, because Abby kept her flat warm for Rex, Ernie and Burt. Stephen had walked in, seen Gertrude in her normal place by the door, shouted, dived to the side, taking Abby down with him, coming up with a gun.

"Wow," Connor said, glancing from Gertrude to Stephen and back again, "It really is a brilliant burglar deterrent."

Stephen stared at Connor in his boxers and vest, and Abby, who had figured out why Stephen had just gone briefly mad, and she burst into laughter. Stephen raised an eyebrow at them both. "What is that?" he demanded, pointing an only slightly shaking finger at Gertrude.

"That's Gertrude," Connor explained. "I'm having some trouble with my flat, so I'm staying with Abby until I've worked something out."

"Gertrude."

Connor picked up his hat, which had been knocked to the floor in the process of getting Lynn out the door that morning and plonked it on Gertrude's head. "Yep," he popped the 'p'. "Gertrude the deinonychus."

"And you have this at your door because . . .?" Stephen asked, looking deeply disturbed.

"She's an excellent burglar deterrent," Connor said. "I have it on good authority she's scared off a good many people trying to break into my old flat."

Abby's grin was bright, if a tad malicious, as she said to Stephen, "You're not scared of a film prop, are you?"

He looked from one to the other, and just shook his head, saying, "You'd both better get dressed. Helen's talking."

Connor had heard Stephen asking Abby some rather searching questions about why she had the gormless idiot living with her (so he liked to have some childish fun with reflective devices and things, the funhouse mirror effect of the ladle was cool), but he shrugged it off. Dating wasn't on his personal radar, Lynn was. If Stephen wanted Abby, he could certainly go ahead and go after her.

Stephen had also taken no delay in telling everyone that Connor was living with Abby, and that had made Cutter's insistence that Connor was living with the somewhat apocryphal Claudia Brown all the more baffling. He'd had no explanations to offer Cutter, save reassuring him that he'd been living with Abby all this time and would have no designs on anyone Cutter wanted to date.

This all led him to where they were now in understanding the situation. He'd never really thought through just how mad temporal dynamics were. He understood it all, that was the easy part. He'd watched Star Trek, all the various runs of it, he'd watched all of Doctor Who. He'd seen Back to the Future and Terminator and read comic books and all sorts of things dealing with time travel and alternate realities. But none of that prepared you for exactly how completely insane it all sounded when someone walked up to you and insisted that everything you knew was a lie. He'd always wondered about why people on television and what-all could be so thick, faced with time travel as a regular part of their lives not believing someone just because it sounded a little weird.

When it happened to you, it sounded bloody bizarre. He had a whole new sympathy for all those fictional characters. But what Cutter had said made a sort of horrible sense, and Connor felt sympathy for the man. What would it be like to go through an anomaly and come back only to find someone you cared about had never even existed? That it wasn't just that they were gone, but that you were the only one who'd even remember them?

Connor was just sitting on the bed, staring into space, when suddenly a pair of arms slipped around him from behind and Abby rested her chin on his shoulder a moment. "Thinking about Cutter?"

"A bit," he admitted. "What are you doing up here? I thought you were going to bed?"

She shot him a slightly embarrassed and simultaneously wry look. "Between Cutter and the raptors today, I think I just don't want to be alone right now," she said.

"I am sorry about that," he told her. "You know I didn't mean to shoot you."

"Shut up, lie down and hold me, Connor," Abby told him, rather obliquely offering forgiveness for messing up with the tranqs. Somewhat hesitantly he did so, and she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "So, are we getting rid of Gertrude?" she asked.

"Lynn would never forgive us," Connor pointed out. "But if she bothers you-"

"No," Abby told him. "Between the blue and the crest on the real ones, I don't think I'd ever mistake her for a live raptor." She chuckled, and Connor was faced with the sudden desire to tilt her head up and kiss her. "But Stephen was commenting that we should get rid of Gertrude after this."

"We should put Gertrude in his flat for an afternoon," Connor said. "And set up cameras."

They fell asleep together, still hazily exchanging ideas on how to use Gertrude to prank Stephen.

* * *

Abby and Lynn had just left Connor to pick the film with the admonition, "No sci-fi, no horror, no action and no princesses."

Lynn had been complaining about that last stricture, but having exhausted every Barbie and Disney princess film in the canon and then some, Abby had taken the chance to put her foot down in fine feminist style, attempting to counter that influence with something less princessy. So, she'd started playing romances, which only she liked, and Lynn assumed were the result of adult crazy from hormone onset at puberty.

Abby was far less amused by this than Connor.

Regretfully, he began looking through the selection, perusing with the smallest of pouts the ones he wouldn't get to take home. "Hostel, classic. Good choice. But this . . . this is really good," came a voice from behind him.

The voice, when he spun around to see, belonged to a stunning black woman, and Connor was rather forcibly reminded again how long it had been since he'd been on a date. "Sorry, just . . . have you seen this one?" he asked her.

"It's not bad. I preferred the original," she said.

He grinned, glad to meet someone who actually _liked_ the same things he did. Besides dinosaurs. Man couldn't survive on dinosaurs alone, after all. Didn't the Flintstones prove that? "Me too."

"You know," she said contemplatively, leaning in closer and giving Connor a good whiff of flowery perfume that made his head swim in a good way, "I don't really feel like horror tonight. I feel like something a bit more . . ." she trailed off suggestively.

His mind ran ahead of his mouth. "Erotic . . . romantic!" He could have slapped himself. He'd wondered what Xander Harris had felt when he'd asked Buffy if he could have her in the first episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Now he knew.

She seemed not to notice either his stupidity, or self-flagellation for stupidity. "Fantasy, sci-fi, something like that. You couldn't recommend anything, could you?"

"I don't know," he said slowly. "I mean, are you a hard core sci-fi fan, or more general? Because, take Star Wars, that's really more fantasy than sci-fi, but it's set in space and all."

She shrugged. "Really, I go either way," she said. Then she winked. "Take that how you like."

His long-suppressed libido had made images of this woman and Abby dance in his head. He shook it off. "As much as I'd like to take it, I've got to hurry up and pick out a film that's going to be acceptable to both my daughter, and my flatmate." He looked at her hopefully. "Maybe you could help me pick something that won't be too horrible?"

There it was. He'd seen that look before. "You have a daughter?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, seeing any chance of getting at least one date out of it all go up in smoke. "Caitlyn."

"Well," she said, looking determined, "Let's see what we can find, then? What does she like to watch, and what do you need to watch for with your flatmate?"

They settled on a film eventually, and somehow Connor wound up inviting her along. After the initial upset she hadn't seemed in the least worried about him having a daughter, so maybe she was still interested. Would still be interested. When they walked in the door, Gertrude was so draped in jackets, scarves and hats, she wouldn't have scared a timid preschooler.

"Hey," he started. "This is Caroline."

Lynn had a calculating look on her faces even as she said with a studied air of innocence, "Grandma said you needed a girlfriend again last night. Is that why you've brought her home?"

His heart dropped into his feet like a rock when she smiled fatuously at Lynn, and spoke as if his gifted, seven-going-on-eight-going-on-seventy daughter were three. "Hello there! And who might you be?"

She looked Caroline up and down, flipped a hand, and said, "Talk to the hand, 'cause the ears ain't listening."

"Caitlyn!" he snapped, appalled and amused at the same time. "Go to your room! You don't talk like that to anyone, least of all guests!" And after a moment's consideration added, "And Tom and Duncan's 1980s VHS are not a good resource for how to act with people."

"Sharp little thing, isn't she?" Caroline said, after a few moments of stunned, uncomfortable silence. Suddenly, first Abby's mobile went off, then Connor's. It was the ARC calling them in for an incursion of some kind.

Connor hastily checked his mental rolodex of available babysitters, was glad to note that Violet Kirkpatrick, whom Abby had found a flat for just down way from them mere days after the demolition of the old flat, was free that day to look after Lynn. "Sorry Caroline, but it's work. Lynn! Abby and I've been called in. Can you grab your jacket? We've got to drop you off with Miss Kirkpatrick."

Lynn came thumping over, muttering about cancelled film nights and patronising people, "Patting people and prattling to piss-"

"Lynn!"

"Hmmph."

As they hustled Lynn out the door, Caroline made one last bid. "Here's my number, Connor," she said with a saccharine smile, and scribbled the numbers onto his palm. "Call me."

The moment her back was turned, Lynn stuck her tongue out at the woman's back. "Lynn."

"What? She didn't see, and you know Grandma wouldn't like her," Lynn grumbled. "I don't like her. You're not going to make her your girlfriend if I don't like her, are you? She'd turn into a Wicked Stepmother right fast," Lynn said with all the authority of someone who'd seen every age-appropriate and close to age-appropriate version of both Snow White and Cinderella.

"First," Connor told her while Abby just watched the interchange, amused, "She only would become your stepmother if I actually married her, and it would have just been dating. Second, there's no reason for you to be nasty to someone who's just being nice-"

"Even if they do treat you like a half-wit," Abby put in.

"Don't help, Abby," Connor told her. "This is about manners, not about-"

"Lynn's far better taste in girlfriends for you than you clearly have?" Abby said.

By the time they'd dropped Lynn off, with an admonishment that she was being punished for rudeness and shouldn't get any biscuits, Connor wasn't entirely certain he'd made any headway with his lecture. After all, the point wasn't that Lynn had probably been right about Caroline, it was that you didn't do that with people.

When Abby made faces behind Jenny's back and stuck her tongue out, Connor just sighed and realised he wasn't going to win on that front at all.

It was while they were in the washroom, Connor cleaning off worm slime from his head, that he noticed that Caroline's number was gone. He made a small face in pique at it, but as he hadn't intended to buck Lynn's dislike, and her interactions with Lynn hadn't exactly won his favour either, he wasn't going to call her. Still, losing the chance to actively make the choice not to stung a little in an irrational way.

"What is it?" Abby asked.

"Hmm? Oh," he said, scrubbing at the slime as best he could. "I just realised I washed Caroline's number off." He frowned, then decided that since he and Abby had both stumbled across each other coming out of the shower by accident, it was fine if he took his shirt off for a bit and washed out the slime from the shoulders. He heard Abby hiss a little, a sharp intake of breath, and asked, "You okay?"

"Just stubbed my toe," she told him. "You were going to call her?"

There was less slime than he thought, and it was gone so fast he was already carrying the shirt to the hand air dryer. "Not really," he said over the noise. "But I haven't been on a date for longer than I can remember, and it's not like I've got women queued up around the block, yeah?"

When he turned back, putting on his shirt as he did, Abby had an odd look on her face, and made a vague sound that could have been anything from agreement to an indicator of indigestion.

The worms were bloody effing scary, and Abby was bloody effing hot when she kung fu'd one into submission. He reminded himself that Stephen had been after Abby, and he didn't want to tangle with that, because in a choice between the super-handsome superman tracker and the super-geek, he knew who'd come out on the losing end.

After the usual lengthy debriefing and report writing, they swung by Violet Kirkpatrick's, picked Lynn up, and came home. Violet met them at the door, saying, "Ask her about her Saturday Morning lectures for the past two weeks."

Duly doing so, they were treated to the story of how, at the recess, they'd tied a counsellor to a tree two weeks before, and that weekend just past, had been treated to a demonstration on why Tying People To Trees Is A Bad Thing.

"So, then they wheeled Kevin onto the stage, and they had him covered in loo roll, like a dress-up mummy," Lynn explained, eagerly gesturing, "And then Ross told us we'd hurt him so badly, they had to bring out the 'Magic Bone'."

"Magic Bone?" Connor asked, staring at her.

"Yup!" Lynn explained happily. "They claimed it was a magic dinosaur bone with healing powers, which was silly, because it was clearly paper mache, and then they tapped him with it, and he pretended to get all better. Then they said they didn't ever want to have to bring out the bone again."

Connor exchanged glances with Abby, both of them silently agreeing that the dirty jokes possible with this story were too numerous to mention, and they weren't going to with Lynn, anyhow. "So, you won't be tying counsellors to trees at break anymore?" he asked.

"No, even if it's Kevin," she said, pouting. "I don't want to have to watch the stupid magic bone presentation ever again."

"That's one reason not to, I suppose," Connor said. There wasn't really a moral she was going to pick up from the experience, and it had been seven-year-olds and skipping ropes, after all.

Connor had just closed the door behind him, when someone knocked on it. It was Caroline. "So sorry," she said, breezing in and ignoring Lynn's faces at her. "I forgot my mobile . . ." she looked around. "Ah!" she said, hastening to the chair it was on. "I wouldn't want to miss a call," she told him, broadly hinting.

Taking a deep breath, Connor told her regretfully, "I'm sorry, Caroline, but I . . . I won't be calling. I just . . . Lynn's too much of a priority for me right now."

An odd look flashed across her face for a moment, before she said, "You're sure? Because it'd be great to have someone to talk films with and-"

"I'm sure," Connor told her firmly. "I'm sorry, but thanks for your help with the film today."

"Okay," she said. "If you change your mind, though." Another round of scribbling, this time on a pad from her purse, which she left on the counter. "See you around."

After the door closed, Lynn said defiantly, "Good riddance to rad bubbish."

"What?" Abby asked, looking at Lynn oddly.

"She read it in a book once," Connor said, shrugging.

"About spoonerisms?" she said, looking perplexed.

He was laughing now. "No, some picture book or other."

They watched the film, Abby and Lynn both sniffling over the ending as the unicorn left her handsome prince to turn back into a unicorn and save all the other unicorns, then Lynn was brushed and washed and sent to bed, and Connor sat on the couch, his head on its back, staring up at the ceiling.

The whole Jenny and Claudia thing struck uncomfortably close to home for him. It had been so long since anyone had called him Jake, had called him by his real name, he was starting to forget. Clarke was still doing things, out backwoods of nowhere, and Danny and Lester, both keeping track in their own ways, had been forced to tell him that they still didn't know what or why with that man. Meanwhile, a niggle of guilt sometimes filled him, because as much as he told himself he was living out Connor's dream for his best mate, he was doing it _in his place_.

Shaking himself out of it, with the thought of Lynn, Connor headed up to bed himself. He'd just settled in when the bed dipped. "Connor?"

"Abby?" he groped for the light, turning it on. "What are you doing in here?"

"What you said today, about there being no one queued up around the block for you?" she looked at him, seemingly nervous.

He frowned, wondered where she was going with this. "Yeah . . .?"

"I . . ." she appeared to make a decision, then suddenly lunged at him, kissing him. Shocked, he didn't respond until after she'd pulled away.

"I thought you . . . and Stephen," he said, vaguely. "I mean, you seemed dead gone on him, and he's better looking than me and all heroic and-"

She kissed him again, cutting him off. This time, he kissed her back and it was sort of really brilliant. "Conn, you're amazing, you know that?" she told him. "You've been raising Lynn so well, and there are so many people who'd've just given her up or away, who wouldn't do so well, but you are and you do. And you're brilliant too, and just . . . you're a big prat who didn't notice the anvils of hints I've been dropping on you."

"Wha'?" he gaped. "Was that, I mean, when you got in the last time?"

"Yes," she told him.

This time, _he_ kissed _her_. It was even better. Her arms slipped around his shoulders and he clasped her waist, pulling her closer, feeling her compact frame tight against him.

"Yes!" shouted Lynn from the door. "I can't wait to tell Danny! He said it'd be at least another month. He owes me five quid!"

They sprang apart. "Lynn!" Connor said, embarrassed at being caught like that. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I wanted a glass of water, but I heard you and Abby making funny noises," she explained. "Is this grownup brain chemistry stuff?"

Abby glared at him. "I ask again, what _have_ you been telling her?"

"That people go crazy when they hit about twelve or thirteen from weird chemicals in the brain that make them stop thinking that boys are weird and gross," Lynn declared.

"Lynn, get your water and go to bed," Connor groaned. "I'll deal with Danny and his five quid tomorrow."

* * *

Being Abby's boyfriend was sort of really brilliant, Connor thought. She'd almost immediately taken up even more of the role of Lynn's mum than she had before, sending Lynn into raptures when she was able to have someone there in the role of 'mum' at mother-daughter events, to be girly with her and to help her heckle her dad when he did silly things like put his pants in the microwave.

Aside from the fact that he got to snog Abby, wrap his arms around her whenever he wanted, buy her gifts like jewelry and tell her she was pretty, it had other perks. Like that the mothers at the school had stopped giving him disapproving looks for raising his daughter without feminine intervention, his friends were bitterly jealous of his having a hot blonde for a girlfriend and Lettie had stopped telling him every time they talked that he needed a girlfriend.

Of course, now she was asking when the wedding would be, so it wasn't that much of an improvement, but at least it was a _new_ question.

Which was why his heart stopped when they were in the boat and the splash came from behind him. "Abby? Abby!" He panicked. It was all a blur as Cutter made him hand back the spear gun lest he hit Abby, as they circled around and around the bloody lake looking for any trace of her. And then they were heading in to shore.

"What do you mean we're stopping?" he demanded. "Cutter, we can't stop looking! Not now! It's Abby!" He was begging. The worst part was the look of understanding on Cutter's face. The fact that the professor knew what Connor was feeling and was still stopping made him want to scream.

Cutter just put a too-gentle hand on Connor's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said. "There's nothing else we can do. She's gone, Connor."

When Lester arrived, all sneers at Cutter, his cold statement, "And now, the girl's dead," was just past the point of tolerance. He snapped, slamming his fist into Lester's face.

"Shut up! Just shut up! We can't stop, we can't!" The look Jenny gave him, part pity and part utter snobbery at his 'irrational' behaviour made him regret hitting Lester and want to hit her instead. But Lester grabbed him, hissing in his ear, "You know everyone's done everything they can, Jacob. You have to be there for Lynn."

"Lester," he pleaded. "I can't. Abby's-"

Still whispering in his ear, keeping his secrets even when he was inches from giving them away himself, Lester said, "Jake. For your daughter."

He felt broken as he turned. Turning his back on everyone. Because he couldn't do it alone, didn't know _how_ to look, saw Lester detailing people to make sure he didn't go anywhere but back to Abby's and . . . the flat.

He got home and stared blankly out, just trying to figure out what he was going to tell Lynn. What would he say? That the woman Lynn was already claiming as her new mum had died? He flinched from the thought. Abby was . . . it was his fault, after all. He'd been closest and she'd been taken while his back was turned. He should have been able to help her, save her. He was still staring into space when Danny arrived at the flat.

"Where's Katydid?" he asked. Then took in Connor's face. "What happened?"

Because he needed to work up to saying it, Connor answered the first question first. "She's staying over with a friend for a bit after school. I'm sorry, I meant to call you, but things . . . happened."

"Things that make you look like your best friend just died?" Danny said shrewdly. "What happ . . ." He'd seen Connor's flinch. "Abby?"

Trembling now, Connor nodded. "They . . . Cutter sent me home. I . . . Lester made the SFs keep me away. I didn't want to stop looking, but they can't . . . they've dredged the lake and there's nothing and she's . . . It was my fault. I turned my back and she . . ."

And then, dropping every bit of his ordinary machismo, Danny was there, letting Connor sob his heart out into the other man's shoulder. Danny just sat with him, lending him silent comfort of just someone _there_. He didn't even move until his mobile went off. Uncaring of what Danny might or might not hear, knowing there was a chance that he was needed to keep someone else from going the way Abby did, he flipped open the phone.

"Connor," Cutter said. "I know how you feel. But I need your help. I think I know where to look." Danny shot him a curious, concerned look. He knew Connor did work for the Home Office, did something that he'd implied was computer tech sort of stuff. He also knew that Connor and Abby both came back bumped and bruised from time to time. But the thing about the man being a cop, was that he knew what the line of duty really meant, and he braced Connor. "Connor, look, listen to me. This is my fault. I should've asked for backup, and I didn't. And that arrogance cost the life of a very brave, very beautiful girl. And you're right to blame me."

The look on Danny's face was an odd combination of sympathy and exasperation. It seemed to say, "I understand, I've been there." It also seemed to say, "Seriously? You're not blaming someone _actually_ at fault?"

"But surely," Cutter continued, unaware of the byplay at Connor's end of the line, "If there's even half a chance that we can stop the same thing happen to somebody else, then we owe it to Abby to do it." There was a pause, and then he added, "And this time I'm asking for backup, so will you come and help me? Please." Connor stared blankly at the mobile in his hand, Danny's hand on his shoulder grounding him. "Connor." There was a long pause.

Danny poked him. Tilting his head significantly at the mobile, he raised his eyebrows. "Well?" he mouthed.

With a shaking intake of breath, Connor put the phone to his ear, and said. "Right. Where?"

"An old warehouse," Cutter said, sounding relieved. He gave Connor the address. "Connor, thanks."

"I'm not doing it for you," Connor snapped into the phone, hanging up.

Danny caught him as he left. "I'll wait here for when Caitlyn gets back," he said. "Don't be too hard on the man. He doesn't sound much better than you right now."

"Thanks Danny," Connor replied, avoiding saying anything about Cutter.

When he got down to the warehouse, they didn't talk. They didn't have to, because there wasn't anything to say. Not until Connor's eyes widened at the sight of the anomaly detector in his hand indicating, "Cutter, the anomaly's reopened."

"I know," Cutter said, looking at his own detector. "Come on."

They heard the muffled shouts for help as they broke through the wall, and then the most amazing words he'd ever heard in his life. "You've got to help Abby!"

He didn't care about anything else, all he cared was that Lucien had just given him the news she wasn't dead, had told him where to go to find her. And then suddenly there she was. Soaking wet, shivering, hair plastered to her head, and the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen in his life. Leia in the slave costume bikini didn't hold a candle to Abby, makeup smeared and running, wearing her sweatshirt and jeans. "Abby! You're okay!" There was no time to react as something slammed him hard, sending him flying into the water. Dimly he heard Abby's scream as he desperately tried to orient himself.

It wasn't hard to figure out that she'd been taken through the anomaly. He followed, frantic, following her shouts for help. He found her as she tried to escape the mutant walruses on the rocky beach. And he had her. Nearly there. And then, "Connor! I'm slipping!"

"You need to climb up now, come on," he urged.

There was resignation behind her panic. "I'm pulling you over. Just leave me."

"No. I'm not letting you go. I've lost you once Abby, I'm not losing you again, okay? We can do this." He strained, clinging to her hand, not letting her fall, not losing her. He was not going to lose her.

"Think of Lynn, Connor," she said. "You can't leave her alone. Just let. Me go."

"I can't," he told her.

"Please," she begged.

"I love you," the words leapt from his mouth unbidden. But they were true. When he looked into his future, there were two people he saw there. Caitlyn, his daughter in all but blood, who he'd do anything for. And Abby. He wanted Abby there. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, know her even better than he did after living with her all this time. He wanted her to be there for Lynn. He wanted Lynn to get the chance to call her 'Mum', and for her to spoil her grandchildren, Lynn's children, with him.

And she was still slipping away.

Then suddenly Cutter was there, was bracing him, giving him the help he needed to get Abby the rest of the way up.

Everything after that was a blur, because the only thing that mattered was that he had Abby with him, in his arms. That they were going home and she was safe and alive and he didn't give a damn about anything else.

He wasn't even really paying attention to much until Lucien said to Abby, "I reckon your boyfriend did a good job."

"He did," she said. "He was pretty incredible." Then she flung herself at him, snogging the living daylights out of him.

Dimly, he heard Stephen saying, "You're _dating_ Connor? What?"

"Let's go home," Connor said when she pulled away to say something they'd all probably regret to Stephen.

They arrived at the same time as Lynn got back, and Connor suddenly realised he'd forgotten to call Danny, again, with important news. "Dad? What happened?" Lynn asked, shocked at the state the pair were in.

"It's a long story," he said. "And you don't have a government clearance high enough to hear it."

Lynn made a face, scampering up the stairs ahead of them. "Danny! Dad and Abby are back and I think you'd better break out the paracetamol!"

"What!?" Danny said, hurtling out the door a moment later, taking in the pair of them, still soaking wet, Abby's makeup still running everywhere, Abby holding her shoulder gingerly while Connor limped along behind her. "Bloody hell," he said. "Well, you certainly look the part of left for dead," he told them.

Danny volunteered to take Lynn, saying that they both probably needed a bit of a break after the day they'd clearly had, and left with her. One shower and change of clothes later he was sitting on the couch. Abby stood, hovering uncertainly a moment, then said, "When we were on the cliff, Connor, you said something. And, I mean . . ."

The threat of Geoffrey Clarke had taught him one thing. Life was short, and you have to make all you can of the chances you have. "I said that I love you, and I meant it," he told Abby. "If you want me not to go there, not pressure you, I won't. But I did mean it."

Abby was frozen staring at him, eyes searching his face for something. She seemed to find it, because a moment later she was clinging to him, mouth on his, saying in between kisses, "Me too. I love you too, Connor."

He never did figure out how they made it to her bed from there.

* * *

Lester had gone to do whatever he was going to do, the SFs were off chasing Leek, Stephen was doing _something_, probably with Helen, and that left Cutter, Abby, Jenny and Connor at the ARC, at loose ends.

Then Connor's mobile rang. The number looked sort of familiar, but not really, and Connor frowned as he answered. "Hello?"

"Connor! Oh, my God, I didn't know I swear. He's taken her, Caitlyn."

"_What!?_" he snapped. Cutter, Abby and Jenny all whipped around to stare at him, but he barely noticed out of the corner of his eye, as he was already sprinting for the door. "What do you mean, he's taken her? Who's 'he'?"

She didn't give a useful answer. "I swear I didn't know. I was just told that I should find out some things about you. I was being paid, but I didn't think they'd kidnap a little girl-"

A cry of pain, and then a male voice came on the line. "Cosgrove, I must admit I'm impressed. I'd offer you a job-"

"I wouldn't take a job from you if I was starving to death," he snapped. "Where the hell is she?"

Clarke was amused. "You mean, _my_ daughter?"

The other three were on his heels, and he was vaguely aware of choking sounds coming from behind him when he snapped, "You mean, the little girl you beat and locked in a wardrobe because you're a horrible person?"

"A horrible person? Is that the best you can do?" Clarke laughed.

"Well, fucking heartless, abusive bastard, with all the morals and decency of a terrorist thug is a bit of a mouthful," he said.

Another laugh. "That's a little better. I do prefer dealing with intelligent people. So much less irritating."

"You're stalling. What the hell do you want, and where's Caitlyn?"

Behind him, Abby gasped, and Cutter was asking who that was.

"_Imogen_ is fine. Well, she'd be better if she weren't being so defiant. Really, you've let her behaviour go remarkably downhill. My goodness, the man you had watching her . . . tisk, tisk, Cosgrove."

"What did you do to Danny?" he demanded, his heart in his throat.

The voice had a careless, carefree sound as Clarke said, "Oh, I'm sure he'll wake up at some point. After all, the poor thing's been victimised and tricked into protecting a kidnapper who's brainwashed my innocent little daughter."

So, Clarke didn't know everything. That was certainly something, at least. Hopefully this meant Danny would be okay. "Right. You're asking me to hand myself over to the police, confess everything?"

"Oh, hardly," Clarke said. "I really do want to talk to you, face to face. If you hurry, I might not even have to discipline little Imogen too much."

"Where?"

It was on the outskirts of London. The middle of effing nowhere, but Connor didn't care. What he cared was that he get to Caitlyn and get her away from Clarke. He had snagged a couple of the smaller tranq guns on the way out and he wasn't going to give Clarke the chance to do anything. Nothing else mattered, and he threw himself into Abby's mini and peeled out of the car park. On the way he tried Danny's mobile, nothing. Then Lettie.

When he got to the address he'd been given, he threw the car into park and leapt out, intent on finding Lynn. A moment later Cutter's hilux screeched to a halt behind him, throwing gravel up every which way and Abby threw herself out of the car almost before it stopped moving. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded. "You're just . . . what? Confronting a kidnapper by yourself?"

"Go home, Abby," he snapped. "You don't want to be here for this."

"For you rushing in, instead of calling the police?" Jenny asked incredulously. "I'll have them on the line-"

"You'll have me arrested and in prison," he snapped. "The most they'll get Clarke on is assaulting a police detective." He shook his head and hurried on.

And then suddenly they were surrounded. "You know, Mother was right. You do-gooder types are depressingly predictable."

Within moments they were dragged inside under armed guard, only to be greeted by, "Leek!" Cutter exclaimed.

"I _had_ hoped that you would be with Temple," Leek said with a frightening smile.

Then the professor focussed on something beyond Leek in the dark, redlit room. "Helen. You're behind this."

"Mother always is such a delight when she channels Machiavelli," said Clarke.

His jaw dropped open, and he was vaguely aware the others were equally as shocked. "Son of a bitch," Abby muttered.

"No kidding," Connor replied reflexively.

Cutter looked utterly gormless. "But how . . ." he glanced from his former wife to the man who seemed nearly the same age as her.

"Oh, Nick, you wouldn't expect me to drag a child around with me all through prehistory, would you?" Helen said. "No, I left him with the Clarkes, who owed me rather a lot for saving their little restaurant, and I looked in on Geoffrey from time to time while he grew up."

Eyes wide in sudden understanding, Connor said, "That's why you keep everyone in the area under your thumb. You're keeping a safe space for her to come around in."

"That and the perks of being so _well-beloved_ in town are quite nice as well," Clarke said. "Now, Mr. Cosgrove, I do believe you owe me an apology."

"I'm sorry I didn't burn your house down around your ears and leave you for dead when I had the chance," he snapped.

Helen Cutter raised an intrigued eyebrow. "I rather like this one," she said idly.

"Fuck off," he said. "Really. You took the time to make sure your son was okay, but your granddaughter doesn't matter to you, does she? You don't care at all that she was beaten and scared, locked away in her room and everyone too scared of him to protect her the way they should have."

Leek interrupted. "As entertaining as all this family drama is, I'd really rather leap to the really interesting bit," he said, and nodded to a soldier by the wall. A moment later the lights slammed on, blinding them all, and it took Connor a moment to focus and see what was going on around him.

He and the others stared at the predators, locked in too-small electrified cages. Then they were all being dragged away, Cutter and Jenny in one direction, Connor and Abby in another. The moment the door slammed shut behind them, Abby demanded, "What's going on here that I don't know?" When he couldn't meet her eyes, Abby grabbed him, spinning him around. "Connor?"

"I . . ." Confession time. "My real name's not Connor," he said. "And Caitlyn's . . . the only way she's not my daughter is that her biological father's Clarke."

"That berk who just said Helen Cutter's his mother?" Abby asked, sounding a little dazed. "But . . . how . . . why?"

"A few years back, right before I finished my undergraduate studies, I had to do some volunteer work at a school. I met Lynn - Imogen there. She was being abused by her dad, her mum was dead, and I did what you're supposed to do. I reported it to the police."

Abby's gaze was fixed, her face unreadable as she said, "So, what happened?"

"Clarke had them in his pocket. Everyone. And I couldn't leave her. He beat her because _I_ tried to help her."

"So you took her," Abby said levelly. "Then invented 'Connor'-"

"That, I didn't need to invent," he said. "Conn was a real person. And in another life, he would be standing right here where I am now." He sighed. "But Conn died in that car wreck, and we looked so much alike, I just . . . stepped into his life."

"And your mother agreed?"

"No," he said. "Conn's mum agreed. Lettie's always been brilliant, and she agreed to let me. My mum and dad have always been less enamoured of me and dinosaurs. We already didn't talk much after I left for uni. I've just . . . encouraged it a bit."

Suddenly she was on her feet, pacing. "I don't know what to say, Conn - what's your real name?"

"Jake. Jacob Cosgrove," he said. "God, it's been so long, sometimes I forget."

She was about to say something else, when Leek arrived with soldiers and, "Caroline!" she looked terrible. Bruised and scraped, all that false sweetness she'd aimed his way before was gone.

"Connor!" she said. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?' he asked. "What . . ."

Caroline turned, glaring at Leek. "I don't mind being paid for a bit of industrial espionage," she said. "I'm no saint, but whatever you're up to with that kid, that's way too far for me."

Leek was clearly aiming for lofty, and only managed a sort of whinging smugness. "I paid her to date you," he said. "Of course, you're like me, Jake. So much trouble with women-"

"That I've got the hottest blonde in London as my girlfriend?" he asked. "And don't call me Jake. The only people who get to call me that are my friends and family. You're neither one."

Leek got huffy, then left, clearly disappointed he couldn't gloat over much of anything, leaving him alone with Caroline and Abby. "I'm sorry," Caroline started again. "I know you don't have any reason to believe me, but I never would have done this or said anything if I'd thought he'd kidnap your daughter."

"You were being paid to ask me out?" he asked her, just to confirm.

She shot him a defiant look. "Yes. It's standard spying, Connor. I know it doesn't make it better. But even I have limits."

Looking at the bruising, he said, "Clarke did that, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Caroline said.

But that just reminded him. "Did you see Caitlyn? Did she look . . . was she-"

"She was okay last I saw her," Caroline reassured him. "A little bunged up from struggling, but nothing else."

"Why'd you tell Leek about Caitlyn anyhow?" Abby demanded.

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Because I had to give him a reason for why I couldn't get Connor to date me, didn't I?"

Abby shot him a sideways look, which he flushed and looked away from. How was he supposed to know that Abby would have picked him over Stephen? And he would have agreed to a lot with Caroline if it hadn't been for Lynn. "Can we not fight about this?" he asked plaintively. "I mean, right now. Can we wait until we get out of here?"

"Fine," Caroline said, nodding.

Abby shot her a narrow-eyed look and pulled him into a kiss that made his toes curl. "Alright," she said after. He rather studiously did not ask her if that meant she'd forgiven him for not being who she thought he was.

Then Leek was back in there, his goons with him, taking them down a hallway. On the way, another few soldiers brought Jenny with them. "Abby, Connor, you're okay."

"Yeah," Connor said, "How's Cutter?"

"He's alright," Jenny said. "The little girl, she's-"

His heart sped up. "Caitlyn? Is she alright?"

"She's got a mouth on her," Jenny said. "She's calling Helen 'Grandma' in the most insulting tone imaginable."

He sighed with relief. "So, she's mostly okay?"

"She seemed fine," Jenny assured him.

Leek cut in. "Yes, yes, very touching, the brat's not been hurt. Do you mind?" He pushed a button unlocking a door, and then they were back in his little Menagerie of Horrors.

Caroline seemed to have gone into shock. "What . . ." she turned to Leek. "Let me go. I won't say a word. Let me go, and let me take the kid with me. We've got nothing to do with this, right? I thought it was just . . . you know, patents or something you were after not . . ."

Caitlyn was his first priority. Always. "Yes," he pleaded with Leek. "You've got us all, let Caroline take Lynn. It's not like you need Lynn anymore, you've got everyone else as hostages for everyone, right?"

Apparently, appealing to the man's humanity was a mug's game. He didn't have any. He left them alone together, locked up, amused at the notion that he'd let anyone go. "I'm sorry," Caroline said again. "I hate myself for what I've done. But I swear, I'd never have intended this."

"Thanks for trying to save Lynn," he offered.

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Then suddenly it was interrupted by an alarm. By a door opening, letting in the sabre-toothed tiger they'd dealt with all those weeks before. "No, no, let me out," Caroline moaned, clearly about to try something, anything to escape.

"No," Abby grabbed her and dragged her back. "We have to stick together. It'll pick off the stragglers first."

And then she did the bravest and stupidest thing he'd ever seen, trying to get the damn thing to eat her first to buy them time. "Come on!" Jenny grabbed Caroline and ran for the lift that had just unlocked. He turned and started to follow the animals out into the rest of the building. "Connor! What are you doing?"

"My daughter's still in here somewhere," he said. "I'm going to find her. You get to Lester and Stephen. Get help." He turned on his heel, racing off, dodging around the snarling predators on the floor, hearing Abby shout his name as Jenny and Caroline held her back in the lift.

Hurrying along, he stumbled across one of Leek's pet soldiers, dead, his pistol and machine gun on the floor beside him. He scooped them up and hurried on, looking for Lynn. Up and down stairs, just barely dodging the gorgonopsid once by hiding in a narrow space too small for it to reach into and the bloody mutant walruses by getting to high for them, all that mattered to Connor was that Lynn was somewhere in that building.

Then suddenly, he heard a voice. "Oh, he's too powerful Stephen, we cannot stay here."

"You can just bloody tell us where the fuck that man is," came Danny's voice, "Or I'll have you down at the station so fast on obstructing justice and anything else I can make stick your head'll spin."

"Danny!" He felt a grin cross his lips as he rounded the corner to see Helen Cutter, Danny and Stephen in a face-off in the hallway.

"Connor!" choruses Danny and Stephen.

Stephen turned to Helen, biting suspicion on his face. "You said they were all dead."

"Well, I -"

He didn't give her the chance to say a word. "What I want to know," Connor snapped, "Is what the hell you've done with Caitlyn."

"The little wretch bit me and ran off," she sneered.

"What about Clarke?" Connor asked. Then suddenly a thought occurred to him. "By the way, is he Cutter's or Stephen's?"

"What?" chorused Stephen and Danny again.

"That cannot mean what it sounds like it means," Danny muttered.

Connor shook his head. "You know what, it doesn't matter. You tell me where you last saw Caitlyn and which direction she was going and we let you go."

"And if I don't?" Helen asked.

There was a length of pipe on the floor. Connor picked it up, hefted it, and said, "I knock you out and borrow Danny's handcuffs and leave you here for . . . something to find you."

She started to sneer, and Connor put to practical use every lesson he'd ever seen Abby give Lynn in her kickboxing and slammed a fist into her face. "Right. Fuck you." She seemed to evaluate the situation and took off running. He turned to Danny. "We've got to find Lynn. Clarke's here and he's got her, and I'll explain everything else when we're not all at risk of dying, fair?"

"Fair," Danny agreed.

"Stephen?" Connor asked. "I don't know what she told you, but Abby and Jenny were on their way out to the surface last I'd heard, and Jenny said Cutter was fine when she last saw him too."

"Was it Lester?" Stephen asked.

"No. It was Leek. And Helen."

Stephen's jaw worked a moment, then he stuffed whatever he was feeling down. "Right. So, we have to make sure Cutter's out and . . . Lynn?"

"My daughter," Connor said. "Leek had her kidnapped to get the rest of us."

"How does Clarke fit into this?" Danny demanded as the three men hurried down the hall, leaving Helen behind.

"Long story short," Connor said, "Helen's a time traveller, he's her son. Or so she says, anyhow."

Stephen choked. "Who . . . what?"

"Keep it together," Danny advised him. "God knows this whole mess is completely insane."

It was only a few minutes later that they stumbled across Cutter. "Nick!"

Cutter looked grim. "Stephen, what . . ."

"Helen lied, she's a manipulative bitch, we're all glad you're not dead, now can we find Lynn and get out of here?" Connor demanded.

Cutter shook his head. "The security's all gone down and there's an army of predators, including those future ones, loose. If they get out there won't be anyone left."

"Right," Danny said, switching gears. "So, we find the kid, get Connor and her out, then we find a way to shut this all down."

Cutter looked a Stephen a long moment, then said, "We'll talk about everything later."

Stephen nodded, and turned back to business. A shrill scream sounded down a hall. A familiar scream. "Daaad!"

"Lynn!"

He turned, sprinting down the hall, terrified of what he might find, aware of the other three on his heels. There was a future predator staring at Lynn, and Connor felt like time slowed down as he raised the pistol in his hand and took the shot. It was one in a million, catching the thing midleap, sending it sprawling to the floor. He raced over, grabbing Lynn and pulling her against him. "You're alright," he breathed.

"That was a hell of a shot, Connor," Stephen said, a trace of a grin crossing his face.

"It was luck," Connor said.

"Now, you need to get out of here," Cutter told him.

Connor shook his head. "As much as I hate to disagree, right now there's safety in numbers and the animals are still roaming. We need to get them back in their cages."

Lynn shot him a dark look. "We will be having words about the fact that your job is trying to get eaten by monsters." She turned to Cutter. "The bald berk said that the alarm in the room with the cages was their dinner bell. I bet they'd come there if they thought there'd be food."

"It's mostly dinosaurs," Connor corrected her. "Leek did say he'd been training them."

"Then that's the plan," Cutter declared, and turned to lead the way back to the cage room.

"That doesn't make it better, and if the lady with the goth eye makeup's my real gran, I expect a better explanation than a big ball of timey-wimey stuff," Lynn told Connor, returning to the previous topic.

"Seconded," Danny said.

"She's really your kid, Temple," Cutter said, shaking his head. They hurried into the room, setting off the alarm, calling the animals in.

Connor hurried to the panel. "I'll get things locked down," he said. Danny was ushering Lynn out, when a raptor arrived, lunging out at him. Stephen shot it away and Connor turned back to the panel.

"Connor! Come on!" Danny shouted.

"No," he said. "We have to lock this down. Stephen'll watch my back."

"Right," Danny grumbled. "Get the random animal lover to do it, not the precinct shooting champion."

Stephen's voice was coolly amused as he said, "Were you tapped for the Olympic team for shooting? Because otherwise, I don't want to hear it."

"Are you going to do what Abby calls macho posturing?" Lynn asked curiously, despite the snarling beasts and over the sound of gunfire. "Because she said that's why she likes Dad so much, he doesn't do that."

Connor hastily finished putting the finishing touches and they watched as the doors began slamming down. They sprinted for the door, Danny and Cutter covering the retreat, Cutter mostly hitting his targets, Danny taking tricky shots and reluctantly impressing Stephen. Then they hastened down the corridors to get out. "Lynn," Connor scolded, "First, how would you like it if someone took the mick about your ballet solos, and second, don't use me as a good example of what girls like."

Lynn sighed. "When'm I gonna be old enough to not be fobbed off with the crazy chemicals in the brain explanation?"

"When Abby says you are, because she's a far better person to ask for details, in your case."

"What's my case?"

"You're both girls."

They'd got most of the way out when a thundering group of familiar, heavily armed people nearly ran them down. "Professor!" exclaimed the SF in the lead. "You're alright?"

Cutter nodded. "We are. There's a collection of predators down there, you'll want to be careful."

"Right," said the man, gesturing for the others to follow.

"Connor!" Abby exclaimed, racing forward and throwing herself at him. Then she hit him. "Don't you ever do that again!"

"Ow," he grumbled.

Lynn shook her head reprovingly. "What stupid thing did he do?" she asked.

"Went to rescue you," he grumbled.

Jenny came racing over. "You're alright!" she exclaimed. Then she hit him too.

"Why's everyone hitting me?" he complained.

His complaining fell on deaf ears, because Abby was hugging Danny in relief, Cutter and Stephen were manfully bonding in a way that carefully avoided anything that might be misconstrued as hugging, and Jenny was on her mobile with Lester, while Lynn pestered her incessantly, because she wanted to tell Mr. Lester all about the insults she'd levelled at 'the bald berk', 'gothy grandma' and her biological father.

Instead he headed over to Caroline, who jokingly raised a fist in his direction. "I nearly had a heart attack when you took off like that," she told him. "I'd hit you if they hadn't beaten me to it."

"I really do appreciate what you tried to do for Lynn, back there," he told her.

She smiled a little sadly. "I think I'll just sign whatever confidentiality agreements need signing, and then I'll get back to my regular life," she said. "For the record, I really do like sci-fi and fantasy."

"Even after this?" he asked.

She glanced at the innocent-looking building behind them. "Maybe not Jurassic Park or creature features anymore," she admitted. "Still, it's pretty cool, and it seems to suit you."

"Well, if you ever need someone to save you from a ravening beast," he told her, "I'll give you Stephen's number. It's what he does. I'm just technical support. And backup."

Lynn had arrived while they spoke and said, "If you're planning to be my evil stepmum, you should know that I know how to behead Gertrude, and I'll stick her head in your bed."

"What are you, the Mafia?" he asked her as Caroline eyed Lynn warily.

"That's horses," Lynn said, "And I wouldn't do that to horses, they're pretty."

"You have the weirdest kid, Connor," Stephen told him, having overheard the conversation.

Cutter snorted. "You should have heard her with Helen, Leek and the other one. You'd think she'd been taking lessons from Lester."

"That reminds me," Lynn said. "The last time he was watching me, I didn't have the chance to ask. What's a sterling example of nescience and hebetude mean?"

"Ignorance and slow-wittedness," Jenny said. "Where did that come from?"

"You're going to get me called in to another parent-teacher conference," Connor remonstrated. "Stop insulting the other kids like that."

"I only do it to the berks," Lynn grumbled, then subsided to muttering about her hobby of collecting insults.

It helped pass the time all the way back to the ARC.

* * *

They all arrived back at the ARC, Lynn cheerfully taking in the surroundings, having only been to the old Home Office space and Lester's in-town flat. Danny seemed intrigued by the whole affair while Caroline looked intimidated.

"Mr. Lester!" Lynn shouted, waving eagerly at the man. "How're you?"

"I'm fine, Caitlyn," Lester said. "Temple, you are an idiot."

"Helen is Geoffrey Clarke's mother," Connor said by way of reply. "I honestly don't know what to do about that one."

"Interesting and no bit terrifying as a thought," Lester replied. "And these others are?" he gestured at Caroline and Danny.

"Caroline Steel, Leek hired her to spy on me, probably to get a secondary in," Connor said. "That's Daniel Quinn, he's a detective, and he was the one watching Lynn this afternoon." He turned to Danny. "Not that I'm blaming you in the slightest, but what the hell happened?"

Danny shrugged. "Katydid and I were arguing about which game to play on the Xbox-"

"He was losing," Lynn put in.

"Wasn't," Danny told her. "Suddenly all these blokes came bursting in. There were too many, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up with a lump on my head and Caitlyn's gone." He sighed. "Not much more to it. I waved my badge around to get access to the CCTV, followed after them, because I _thought_ the only person who'd be taking her was Clarke, and there's been no pinning him with anything. Ran into that one, Stephen was it?" he said, jerking his head at Stephen, "And the woman with the raccoon eye makeup. She was insisting you were all dead."

Stephen nodded, looking a little broken for a moment. "That's what she told me. I'd just caught the scorpion on the beach when she called." His jaw worked a moment. "She said," he turned to Lester, apologetically, "She said _you'd_ had Cutter and the rest killed. I didn't . . . have any reason to disbelieve her."

Danny nodded. "When she claimed that, I insisted we go in. I'd figured that I'd find someone to arrest, maybe put a bullet through."

"He broke in. Amazingly quickly, actually," Stephen said with a frown in Danny's direction.

"He's frighteningly good at that," Abby said idly. "Scared me half to death that time we all overslept and were late to drop Lynn off at his flat."

Grinning, Danny said, "Oh, you know that's all part of my charm."

"Part of your something," Abby muttered. "Breaking into buildings with Connor."

"Everyone has to have a hobby," Connor chorused with Danny. "Ow," he added as Abby smacked him in the head.

Lynn grumbled. "I don't get to come along. I'm good at sneaking."

"No, you're not," Abby, Danny and Connor said at once. "You're good at a lot of things," Abby said, "But thankfully for everyone's sanity, sneaking is not one of them."

"Grandma Lettie!" Lynn said, eyes wide.

Indeed, coming down from Lester's office was Lettie, in grand style and full voice. "_Jacob Peter Cosgrove do not think you're too old for me to put you over my knee!_" She was down the stairs and had him by the ear a moment later. "What on God's green earth did you think I'd think when I got a phone call from you asking if I was alright, saying Lynn'd been kidnapped and would I be careful because Clarke'd caught up to you!"

"Ow, Lettie, I'm sorry . . . ow . . . if you're going to do anything can we at least not have me humiliated in front of my coworkers? Please? Ow!" A particularly vicious twist of his ear, and a yank, sent him sprawling. "Why do all the women in my life try to hurt me?" he asked the air plaintively.

"Lettie?" Abby asked, "What are you doing here?"

"She contacted me, asking me what was going on," Lester said dryly. "When it became apparent that you were all going to make it back here, I invited her along because this looked likely to be a disaster if I didn't."

"Conn taught me how to break into places after the third time you both stole all the chalk in the school to write filthy limericks on the schoolyard," Lettie said unabashedly. "I was waiting in James' flat for him."

Finally Cutter broke in. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "That's Connor."

"No," Lettie said sadly. "That's Connor's best friend, Jake. Connor's been dead for five years."

In the end, Caroline was bustled off to sign her confidentiality forms and get out, while everyone else was sat down in the meeting room and everyone's sides were explained.

"That's . . . bizarre," Lettie said finally, eyeing Cutter and Stephen. "So, Clarke's probably your . . . one of your . . . son."

Stephen and Cutter exchanged looks. There was a long and telling silence, which Lynn finally broke with a look that had Lettie and Connor both lunging across the table to stop her, and as usual, too late. "So, Gramps . . . es, can I call you both Gramps?"

"Lynn!"

Stephen looked shell-shocked as Lynn's declaration drove it home. "I . . . Oh, God," he gasped.

"You won't be calling me anything," Cutter glared at her. Then he turned to Stephen. "Stephen? Are you okay?"

The usually indomitable tracker was starting to hyperventilate. Cutter was at his side, fluttering about, until Jenny said, sounding incredulous, "I really didn't put any stock in those rumours about them sleeping together until now."

Cutter glared at her, and Lynn said irritably, "Does this mean everything that Tim's older sister said about grownups putting their private bits together is true? Because Dad's thing about brain chemistry and crazy sounds more plausible all the time."

Stephen's head came up and he stared at Lynn a moment before suddenly descending into hysterical laughter and sliding to the floor with a thump. Cutter helped him to his feet, making vaguely soothing sounds at his friend. Danny got up a moment later, took Stephen's other side, saying as he helped them out the door. "S'alright. Meeting Katydid the first time's an experience." Clearly the stress of all the fallout, rejection, thinking Cutter and the team were dead, finding out they weren't and that he quite possibly had an adult son and granddaughter and who knew what-all else was too much for the man at the moment.

"Lynn," Lettie said disapprovingly. Then she turned to Connor. "Brain chemistry and crazy?"

Jenny, surprisingly, said, "Oddly enough, I can see the sense in that. I _do_ hope you plan to explain the rest?"

"I was hoping to have Abby explain the rest," Connor said, shrugging. "Not like I know much about the girl's side of things, you know."

Lester sighed. "I suppose I'd better get to changing all of your paperwork," he said to Connor. "Now that Clarke appears to have left for times unknown with Mrs. Cutter, you're certainly free to go back to your life."

He took a shaking breath. "If it weren't for Lettie, I'd ask you not to."

"What do you mean?" Lester asked.

Lettie's eyes were narrowed as she stared at him. "Does this have anything to do with that phone call I got from the idiot who calls himself your father?"

He tried to shrug carelessly, was horribly aware he'd failed, but kept his voice even. "Ken's not MIA anymore, is he? He's coming home and he'll take over the store for Dad when he retires. He doesn't need to hold out hope I'll drop the higher education nonsense now. He's got his legacy. And the son he's actually proud of. Mum'll follow his lead. She always has."

Lettie eyed him. "You do realise that I'll be expecting all three of you up for Sunday dinner more often?"

"You can't be serious," he said, gaping at her. "It was one thing to pretend to be Connor when I had to, but-"

"He'd never begrudge you this," Lettie said. "You don't know how many time he asked when you first met in primary if I could adopt you."

Lester looked at them both, then said, "Very well, we shall leave the status quo, Mr. Temple."

Lynn burst into tears. "Can we go _home_ now?" she asked between sobs. "I wanna go home and see Gertrude and . . . and . . ."

Connor scooped her up, "Shh, love. It's alright, let's go."

They left, Abby coming along and promising Lynn that it was alright, she was safe now. When she wouldn't let go of him, he had to climb into the back of Abby's mini and hold her for the trip home. She cried herself out, falling asleep. He and Abby were silent until they'd got Lynn into her bed, snuggled up to her sauropod plushie. Then Connor just dropped onto the sofa. "Do you suppose we could manage to run away, the three of us, to some obscure little island out in the Hebrides for about a year?"

Abby looked uncertainly at him a moment, then seemed to suddenly make up her mind about something, curling up into his side. "Three of us?"

He looked at her, feeling a little uncertain now. "It's just . . . Lynn wants you to be her mum and . . . and I really want you to do that too."

"Connor . . . Jake . . . I don't even know what to call you now," she told him, frustrated. "It's like you're a completely different person than I thought you were, but you're not."

"I'm sorry," he said remorsefully. "I never wanted to lie to anyone. I just wanted to protect Caitlyn."

She shook her head and put a finger over his lips. "I will deal with it. Because you're the same person you were all along, in fact, you're better, because what you've done for Lynn is incredible." Then she kissed him.

One kiss became two, then a dozen, then they stumbled to the bed they'd begun to share but hadn't actually had the chance to use for much of anything but sleeping because of Lynn's radar for adult crazy hormones and exhaustion from working at the ARC.

The bedsprings got quite a lot of use that night.

* * *

The morning after, they'd planned to ask Lettie to come over to watch, but now that the trauma of the day before had a chance to settle in, Lynn was terrified at being left at home alone with no one but Lettie. As she'd pointed out, if _Danny_ hadn't been able to keep her safe from Clarke, Helen and Leek, how could Lettie? So, a quick phone call to the ARC, and Lester agreed to, "This one time, this is a workplace not a child-minding centre," let Lynn come in.

Within minutes she'd found her way to the SFs and was making the bad police station grade coffee she'd learnt to make from Danny's coworkers. It was a testament to how bad the SF's coffee tended to be that Lynn was hailed as their saviour. Connor left her in the hands of the SFs, and went to find Stephen and Cutter. With everything that had happened, including Stephen's breakdown the day before, it seemed they'd left all their problems relating to Helen behind.

"Could we talk?" Connor asked them both. "Because I need to know what you both want to do about Caitlyn and the pair of you. Do you want to get a blood test to see if you're related, do you want to ignore everything? I'm not saying either of you need to take any responsibility here, but she'll be back to normal and taking the mick about everything eventually. I'd rather know now what I should or shouldn't tell her about you both."

They exchanged glances. Then Stephen said slowly, "I don't really know. I mean, it was just . . . I'd always been careful with Helen, especially since I never wanted children."

Cutter looked just as perturbed. "I did, but Helen had always been adamant, and . . ." he took a deep breath, let it out and started again. "It's a bit disconcerting to imagine I've already got a grown son and granddaughter, possibly."

"Especially one like Clarke," Stephen added wryly.

Abby arrived. "We're going to have to teach her how to make decent coffee in self-defense," she said. "What the hell has Danny been telling her? To put rat poison in the stuff?"

"God knows," Connor said. "But it tastes the same as the stuff they have at the station where Danny works, so it may just be the gun-toting professions who can't make coffee to save their lives."

She looked between the three men. "Come to any decisions?" she asked. "Because you should both keep in mind that Lynn pretty much thinks of Connor as her dad, so neither of you has to fill that role."

Stephen and Cutter looked at each other for a moment, sharing a silent conversation, then suddenly Stephen suggested, "Look, there's no need for us to upset that status quo, but maybe we should just play the same role Danny does with her."

"The cool babysitter, possibly uncle?" Abby asked. "She'd like that. She'll be happy to have someone else to trick into playing Barbie Wild Horse with."

At their similar looks of horror, Connor grinned, "You can usually distract her with dinosaurs or snakes. Hadrosaurs are her favourite."

Both Cutter and Stephen looked incredibly relieved.

It was never quite explained after that how Stephen came to have the whole Barbie Horse Adventures series in his flat, or the way Cutter took to keeping abreast of developments in hadrosaur research.


	3. Series 3 and 4

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything anyone recognises.

Notes: I kept meaning to end this sooner, but plot threads kept dangling. Hence going all the way to the end of S4.

* * *

"Dad! They're here!" Lynn called anxiously when the doorbell rang. There was a new girl in school, and Lynn had befriended her. Apparently the poor thing had had some trouble with school before and her parents had pulled her out and homeschooled her, and were now trying to reintroduce her to the regular stream. Her mother, dropping her off, looked oddly terrified.

"Hi," Connor said as he answered the door. "Please, come in a minute. Feel free to reassure yourself that neither Abby nor I is as frightening as Lynn likes to pretend."

Lynn shoved past him and grabbed her friend's hand. "Beth! You're here! Great. Let me introduce you to Gertrude so she won't be scary." Beth was Lynn's new best friend at school, and for several weeks, everything had been Beth this, and Beth that. She dragged the other girl in, pointing at their family raptor and saying, "Beth, Gertrude, Gertrude, Beth. Now come on. I need another high score to taunt Stephen with on Barbie Horse Adventures." Beth giggled, a tad nervously, and followed Lynn into the living room.

Beth's mother raised an eyebrow at the dinosaur in the hall, covered in scarves and hats. "Interesting sense of decoration you have," she said.

"She's our security system," Connor said, sticking to the standard line. "People break in, they see her, they run away."

"She scared Stephen!" Lynn called back.

"Lynn! If you can't stop eavesdropping on everyone else's conversations I'll have Beth's mum take her home!" Connor called back.

Beth's mother blinked. "Who is Stephen?" she asked, cautiously. "I'm sorry, I know I'm a little . . . but Beth's had some troubles over the years and I worry about her. We're hoping that maybe putting her back in school will help her settle back down, but . . ." she stepped forward, joining Connor in watching the two girls set up the Xbox and chatter away about horses, school, some television show involving monster-fighting fairies that Connor had never quite understood and generally be as perplexing as little girls could be to an adult male geek.

"It's alright," Connor said, smiling slightly. "Lynn's had some troubles of her own. Stephen's just one of my coworkers. Kind of co-opted into the role of favourite uncle. She's unmerciful to his sense of masculinity, of course, but Lynn's like that."

Beth's mother smiled a little now. "Right. So, Connor Temple, right?"

"Marion Lindsay, wasn't it?" he responded. "Nice to meet you. I-" He was cut off by the doorbell. When he answered it, Stephen was there, along with the newest member of the ARC in tow. "Stephen? Sarah?"

Stephen shrugged. "Sarah and I were talking, and she wanted to meet Lynn. I figured, before she wound up with an introduction like mine-"

"Stephen! It's Stephen!" Lynn called back to Beth. "Hi! Beth says she's really good a Barbie Horse adventures, so we're booting your high score out of the table."

Marion Lindsay's eyes were wide as she took in Stephen's movie star good looks, then cast a speculative eye at Connor, then back at Stephen. Lynn's eyes narrowed as she spotted some weird grownup brain chemical thing going on. Sarah put her arm through Stephen's, and said, "Well, you must be the infamous Caitlyn Temple. I'm Sarah."

"Dad says you were taking the mick at him about some curse. You should know that only Abby and me are allowed to do that to him," was Lynn's response.

Sarah eyed her back, while Marion seemed close to laughter. Beth had joined them all at the door, watching the whole thing curiously. "He's far too easy for that, you know," Sarah said. "I really can't help it."

Lynn looked from her to Stephen and back again. Then she said, "Since Abby's my new Mum, I don't have to worry about an evil stepmother, but if I find out you're being mean to Stephen like the goth makeup lady, I'll-"

"Lynn, you are not the Mafia," Connor cut her off. "Don't threaten people with Gertrude's head in their beds, or anything else for that matter. Stephen can take care of himself."

"I'll be watching," Lynn said with all the menace she could muster, then headed back to her now-loaded game, telling Beth all about the evil goth makeup lady.

Sarah turned to Stephen. "I see why you felt I should be introduced under controlled circumstances. She's exactly like you described."

"How was that?" Connor asked, curious.

"Like you, Abby and Lester got mixed up in a blender, with just a soupcon of Cutter's obstinacy to add flavour to the whole," Stephen told him. "Sarah and I are going to a film."

The dark haired woman shot Connor a grin, "We're going on a date, but he's too scared of you all to say it."

"Right," Connor said decisively. "So, here's the threat then. Stephen doesn't have the best track record with women-"

"Hey!"

He ploughed on, ignoring Stephen's affronted look. "So, if you hurt him, Abby and I will set Lynn on you, and you'll probably live to regret that." Lynn turned, smiled in what she clearly hoped was a chilling fashion, and drew a finger across her throat in the classic, "I will kill you," move. Connor sighed. "But before that I'll talk to Danny about what films he's taken to showing her."

Sarah's eyes were wide as she and Stephen left on their date. "That was . . . oddly reassuring," Marion told him.

"Really?" he asked her.

She nodded. "I think Beth might really have a good friend here after all." She smiled, looking relieved, and left Connor to watch the girls for the afternoon.

A few weeks later, though, Connor was at work, looking over Cutter's numbers and his mass of tubes that were an odd map projecting the occurrences of anomalies, when his mobile rang. It was Lynn. "Dad!" she hissed into the phone.

"Lynn?" he asked. "What's up? I thought you were over at Beth's after school today?"

"I think there's a . . . an anomaly monster here," she said anxiously.

"What?" he dropped everything and turned his full attention to the phone. On a hunch, he hurried over to where Cutter was working and took a look at the location Cutter's predicted anomaly was supposed to open. The place Stephen, Abby and Jenny were looking into. The place only really a few blocks distance from where Beth's home was. "Hell. Cutter, call Stephen, now. Or Abby."

"Beth says it's been here a while," Lynn went on. "It's weird," she said. "It's got big ears and eyes and teeth and it's like a chameleon-"

She was cut off. "What are you doing?" Beth's voice, muffled by distance, came down the line.

"I'm calling my Dad."

"You can't!" Beth said. "No one ever believes. I have to feed it. It's bad otherwise. If it's fed it's not as bad."

"Dad knows people. He can get it stopped," Lynn protested.

Cutter was on the phone with Stephen, both of them, from what Connor could hear of the conversation, were confused.

"Dad, I-" a snuffling sound, then a shriek, a thud, Beth's voice shouting anxiously, and Connor cursed.

He lunged at Cutter, snatching the man's mobile. "Stephen! Lynn's at her friend Beth's and she said there's something there with big teeth, eyes, ears and it changes colour like a chameleon. They're only a few blocks from where you are, and I think it's attacked Lynn!"

"Right," Stephen replied sharply, hanging up and probably already on his way to get to Lynn.

Cutter had already grabbed his jacket and was tossing one to Connor. "Let's go," he said.

When they got to the scene, there was an ambulance there. And Danny. "Where's Lynn?" Connor demanded.

"With the medics," Danny told him, pointing to the emergency vehicle. Connor raced over, expecting, hoping to see Lynn making snarky comments to the emergency services. Hoping she'd just be getting a plaster on a knee. He rounded the ambulance to see Lynn, bloody, still, with three people doing things to her, attaching things and wrapping things and taping things and he wasn't even aware that he was moving until he was on his knees next to her.

"Lynn!" he gasped. "What's . . . oh God," he moaned.

He was being pulled away and he struggled. He had to be with her. "Sir!" said someone, he had the sense they'd been trying to get his attention. "You have to let us do our jobs. We have to get her to the hospital."

"He's her father," Cutter snapped. "At least let him into the bloody car." Connor felt a surge of gratefulness for the man's bullheadedness as he was allowed in to sit with Abby in the ambulance as they were driven along with Lynn to the hospital, answering whatever questions were thrown their way by the paramedics.

Hours and hours later, a tired-looking doctor finally came out to answer their questions. "Mr. Temple?"

"Yes?" he was on his feet, probably too close, probably too aggressive, but he couldn't bring himself to care, because his daughter was somewhere in the hospital after being savaged by some monster from another time. "How's Lynn?"

"We need blood," the doctor said baldly. "I'm sorry to say that her blood type's just rare enough that we just don't have enough for her. If you and your wife-"

Abby squeaked, and Connor staggered. "Then there's a problem," Connor said, not even touching the 'your wife' issue. "Caitlyn's adopted. I'll happily donate, but I don't think I'm actually compatible."

"I'll call Cutter and Stephen," Abby said hastily. "And everyone else. Just in case."

The doctor eyed Connor. "It's complicated," Connor offered. "But Cutter and Stephen are . . . cousins of hers. Not that any of us knew. Her real mother's not been properly forthcoming about . . . well . . . anything." He tried to look meaningfully at the doctor and let her draw some useful conclusions about Helen.

"I see," said the doctor noncommittally. "You can sit with her for the moment if you'd like," she told him.

Connor nodded, following the woman to a hospital room, seeing Lynn pale and still on the bed. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured. "I'm so sorry," he dropped into a chair next to her, taking in the bandages all over her and the way her hair had gotten ripped out. "I promised to take care of you," he said softly. "Keep you from being hurt, and look at you."

A nurse came in, bringing equipment to take his blood, which he barely noticed, because his whole focus was on his daughter. Abby showed up not long after, sporting a similar bandage to his own on her arm. Then Cutter, Stephen, Jenny and Sarah. Danny arrived too, looking a tad shellshocked. Not long after that, the doctors finally got Lynn onto the IV of what she needed, the blood she needed and declared that, with the necessary plasma, it seemed she'd finally stabilised. She was, odds were, going to be fine.

Then the doctor told them, "I'm not entirely sure about who's got what relationship to who, here. But it looks to me that those two," her head nodded at Cutter and Stephen, "Are not related to Caitlyn at all."

"What?" Connor gaped. "But that's . . . how?" Suddenly he shook his head. "What am I saying? Helen."

Danny sighed. "So, it's neither of them?" he said, shaking his head. "That woman's a piece of work."

"Which is as good a segue as any, Mr. Quinn," the doctor told them. "Because it would seem that you have a fairly close familial relationship with Caitlyn."

They all turned to stare at the doctor. "I'm sorry, what?" Connor asked, blinking at her, confused.

"After the blood test results," she said with a sigh, "I pretty much violated a number of protocols, just because I wanted to confirm a thought. I had a DNA test run, and Mr. Quinn appears to be related to Caitlyn. At a distance of maybe a cousin or something of that sort." In the pause and silence that followed the doctor looked increasingly nervous until she blurted out, "I'll leave you alone. If you need something, have the nurse page me."

The whole crowd of them, in there because they were all bullheaded enough to fight the nurses to a standstill, stared at each other. "Patrick," Danny said slowly. "The anomaly in that house, the creature. Patrick vanished from that house, and all these years I blamed his friends. But it was an anomaly. He must have gone through."

"He must have survived long enough for Helen to get him to sleep with her," Cutter said sourly.

That was when a nurse came in and outbullheaded them all out, but Connor and Abby, who were down as her parents and she couldn't make them leave.

Connor was there about twenty hours out of every day, taking just enough time to go home, shower, change, eat a meal that wasn't hospital food and head right back in. He was generally aware of visitors, of Danny coming by to inform him that he'd quit the force and joined up with the ARC, because the point of being on the police was finding Patrick, and he had far better odds with the ARC of doing so.

He was aware of Lester coming by, telling him something about personal leave that he didn't really absorb, save that it meant that he was still getting money from his job even though he was sitting with his daughter instead of working. He was also aware of Stephen and Cutter promising they wouldn't stop being there for Lynn just because they were no longer obliged to.

Abby was there with him, and Connor didn't think he'd ever loved her more than when she was with him, tired-looking and stiff from the hospital chairs, but there, because she was as much Lynn's mum now as he was Lynn's dad.

And at long last, the day came that Lynn's eyes fluttered open. "Dad?"

"Hey sweetheart. How do you feel?"

She thought a moment. "It hurts. Was I right? Was it a time creature?"

"Yes," Connor said. "And before you ask, Beth's mum saw enough that Beth got to tell her, 'I told you so'."

"Good," Lynn said decisively. Then she yawned. "Can I have Squishie?"

"Here," Abby said promptly, handing over the plushie sauropod.

"Thanks Mum," Lynn murmured as she fell back asleep.

Abby looked stunned, then smiled, then turned to Connor, suddenly anxious. "I'm sure she didn't mean-"

"I'm sure she did," he said, suspecting what Abby was thinking. "But I'd been thinking for a while about asking you to make it official. Marry me, Abby?" he asked, as the relief that Lynn really was going to be okay made him giddy.

Abby kissed him, then said, "Ask me again when you're not running on a high from relief and almost no sleep."

"I'll do that," he warned her, then wrapped an arm around her and settled back in to wait for Lynn to wake again.

* * *

Lynn had made a tremendous fuss about getting back to school fast. She'd wanted to be there to threaten the other students with her Dad who worked for the government, Abby's kickboxing and Danny the Detective if they said a single horrible thing to Beth. It seemed word had got out from a couple teachers being less than discreet while gossiping about the 'poor girl, some sort of break with reality,' and it was all over the school that Beth was mad in a real and certifiable sense. When Beth had told her, Lynn had ranted for a full ten minutes before demanding, as Lester came in the door, that the man use his governmental influence to do bad things to the teachers who'd caused the rumours to start.

So, she was back in school in a wheelchair, Beth pushing her friend around, and getting Connor and Abby called in to talk to the headmistress about her behaviour.

"I understand that your daughter has been traumatised," Headmistress Jessica Grant told them, "But she must refrain from so aggressively insulting the other children."

"I've never known Lynn to do things like that without some sort of cause," Connor said, "I'll be the first to admit she's brash and I have a hard time reining her in, but she's been upset for weeks about how the other students are treating Beth," at the headmistress' slightly confused look, Connor clarified, "Beth Lindsay. She started at the school just this year."

The woman had the grace to wince. "I do realise there are problems there, but she's got such a pugnacious attitude in response that it's just alienating them both." She heaved a sigh. "I've called you in, because she's taken to upsetting the other students by calling them terminal moraines."

Connor stared. Abby was frowning to herself. "A . . . terminal moraine?" he asked carefully.

"Yes," said Ms Grant. "It's sent several students weeping to the teachers."

"Terminal moraine?" Connor said again.

She shot him a pleading look. "Just talk to her. You must understand that this sort of interaction won't be good for either of the girls in the long run. I will speak to the teachers and try to rein in the other students, but if she keeps up-"

"Calling the other kids terminal moraines?" Connor asked, still a tad hung up on that point.

"If nothing else it will backfire on her once they figure out what she's saying," the headmistress said sharply.

He nodded. "I'll see what I can do. But she's always been very difficult to dissuade from speaking her mind."

They left and Abby got her reminder of what a terminal moraine was on the way down to Stephen's apartment. They got there to see Lynn cheering on Sarah as she obliterated Stephen at Barbie Horse Adventures. Cutter was at the table, pretending badly he wasn't amused at his former assistant's predicament, and pretending equally badly that he was working. After some incident involving Helen and clones while Connor had been with Lynn at the hospital, Cutter and Stephen had been a great deal closer. Connor had tried to read the reports, but had decided in the end that he didn't want to know most of the particulars.

Stephen now had pet diictodons, Cleo and Tony, running around in his flat, and Cutter used studying them in detail as an excuse to hang about.

"Hey," Connor said in greeting.

"Dad!" Lynn eagerly wheeled herself over. "Sarah's been helping me get Stephen off all the high score boards that Beth and I couldn't."

"So I see," Connor said. "Care to tell me why you've been calling the other kids terminal moraines?"

"What?" Sarah's head whipped around to stare at them, ignoring Stephen's 'Ha!' of triumph as he beat her, maintaining his spot on the board.

"Terminal moraine?" Cutter said from where he'd been absently petting Cleo, who squeaked and joined Tony in tumbling all over the floor a moment before heading into the replacement burrow Stephen had made for them. "Do you know what that is?" he asked Lynn.

"Gravel and stuff left from the end of a glacier's leading edge," Lynn replied promptly. "But if I say it mean enough they think it's a real insult."

"Clever," Sarah said nodding. "But what happens when they figure out what that is?"

Lynn paused, thinking about that, then winced. "Oops."

"I got called to talk to the headmistress today," Connor told Lynn. "I understand you want to protect Beth and all, but getting into fights with the other kids isn't going to make it easier for either of you, and calling them terminal moraines might sort of backfire, you know."

"They keep calling Beth crazy," Lynn protested. "Batty Bethy, they're calling her. It's awful and it's making her cry!"

Connor sighed. "Just . . . try to ignore them, okay? If it doesn't get better, I'll talk to Beth's mum and we'll see if there's anything we can do. I understand, Lynn, but insulting everyone's not going to make it better."

Lips pursed, Lynn nodded slowly. "Okay, but if it doesn't get better, Dad, you have to fix it."

* * *

Seventy-two hours later, he was stuck in a tree with Stephen, staring down at circling deinonychuses on the floor below, calling their annoyance at losing their prey.

"Right now," Connor said idly, "I'm sort of torn. On the one hand, I really wish you were Abby, and on the other, I'm glad she's at home to take care of Lynn."

Stephen chuckled. "I'm rather glad Sarah's safe at home, myself, but I understand the point." He looked in the general direction of the anomaly that had taken Cutter and Helen off. "I just hope Cutter's alright."

"Yeah," Connor said, sighing. He shifted, feeling pain stabbing in all the bits of him that had gotten injured since coming through to the Cretaceous. "So, how are you at hunting and what-all without guns?" he asked. "Because the ammunition'll run out eventually."

His friend gave a wry smile at him. "I expect we'll find out a lot of things about survival until we find a way home."

Connor looked around. "Oh, to know then what I know now," he said a tad plaintively. "Really, I'd've spent more time looking into paleobotany for edible plants if I'd known."

"Who wouldn't?" Stephen replied with a sigh.

They both fell silent after that, dozing fitfully in the tree all night. The following weeks were a scrabble for survival, he and Stephen pooling their collective knowledge about survival and dinosaurs to avoid starving to death, or being eaten.

Stephen had helped him build a sort of magnetically based warning system, in case an anomaly opened nearby and they built a base camp in the middle of a giant thorny bush of some kind. It was a bit of a travail tossing out the myriad small creatures that tried to invade and join them in safety, but they dealt with it.

As things settled into a routine, they began to talk. First plotting to get home, then as that was worn out, about Abby and Sarah, then about the others at the ARC. They started to run out of those topics and began to discuss books and television, films and plays and games and sports. Then evolution and biochemistry, politics and history, archeology and animal behaviourism.

Then, quite suddenly, all the safe topics were talked out, for the most part. Stephen, quite suddenly one evening said, "Connor's not your real name, you said once. Connor . . . you had a friend named Connor. Tell me about him."

He froze a moment, then said slowly. "I . . . sometimes I really do forget it's not my name now. Conn . . . Connor was my best friend. He was practically my brother. Anyone who didn't know us thought we were twins. Fraternal twins, but we had the same build, the same eyes and hair, we talked the same and like I told Lynn once, if we dressed the same and kept apart, we could trick people into thinking we were each other."

"You miss him," Stephen said, looking sympathetically at him.

"God, yes," Jake said, his voice cracking. "That database? That's not mine, it was _ours_, his and mine. Conn wanted to be the next Jack Horner. He wanted to dig up fossils and build new dinosaurs and learn everything about them. He'd never planned any sort of back-up plan, never even thought a moment he might not succeed." He laughed, a little wetly through the tears creeping up on him as he remembered the friend whose life he'd sort-of stolen. "I wasn't nearly as confident. I went for two degrees. One in engineering and the like and one in biology."

"Something to fall back on?" Stephen asked.

He nodded. "We'd both applied for uni, the same one, got in, and then . . . then the accident happened." He closed his eyes, recalling the shock of the news. "Conn and his girlfriend were driving home from a weekend away together. They were on a back road, so there's no CCTV footage to see, but the police did know there was another vehicle there, it's clear that Conn swerved to avoid hitting it and drove off the road. It was raining that night and the other driver's tracks were too obscured to give a clue about what kind of car it was. There's just no evidence that they even stopped."

Now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. Lettie knew all this, everyone knew all this back home. There had never been anyone he had to tell, and there was something oddly freeing about telling the story, even after all this time. "That's . . ." Stephen shook his head in disbelief. "Didn't even stop?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Nothing indicating the other car sat still, no footprints, nothing. And Conn and Margaret," he had to force the words out, because it was as horrible now as it was then. "They could have made it if the bastards had stopped and called for help. Margaret, they said she never woke up, but Conn . . . he had broken ribs and struggled so much to get them out that he punctured a lung. He . . . they . . ." Stephen slung an arm over Connor's shoulder as he got himself under control again.

"I'm so sorry," Stephen said softly. "I can't imagine."

Jake sighed. "I know . . . I _know_ Conn would be fine with me doing this, with me using his name and all, but sometimes I just feel awful, because he wanted this _so badly_."

"And do you know why you're so useful to us?" Stephen asked him. "It's because of the engineering Con - Jake. Because you're more than just a paleontologist. Who else could have figured out how to build a machine to lock anomalies?"

It was something he hadn't thought of, something that made him feel a little less like he was cheating his way into the ARC. "Stephen?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," Jake . . . Connor said.

And the talk that had so carefully avoided asking hurtful personal questions, that talk turned to family and friends. Connor finally got up the nerve to ask about Helen and Stephen's time with her.

"You have to understand," Stephen said with a heaved sigh, "I'd never really wanted to go to university, but my parents were intellectuals and the idea of _not_ going to uni was just . . . anathema." He shrugged. "I went, I did a degree, but I was more interested in adventure. I met Helen by accident. The offer was perfect. I'd get a research master's degree, she'd take me along as someone to track and shoot things. I'd get my adventures and she'd get a pair of spare hands and my parents would stop badgering me about academics."

"Wow," Connor said. "That _does_ seem . . . sort-of perfect."

Stephen nodded. "Exactly. Cutter effectively offered me the same opportunity. I've never regretted not having the doctorate because I never wanted one, but I'll admit my parents get a bit shrill about my only having a master's."

"I sort of wish I did have one," Connor admitted. "I mean, I just sometimes feel a little like . . . I don't know, I lack authority, so to speak. I don't have a title or anything, just enormous squishy frontal lobes."

Snickering a little, Stephen said, "You're more than that, Connor."

"But try telling that to every new person that gets attached to the ARC. There's Dr. Cutter, Dr. Page, Abby Maitland, animal behaviourist recruited from Wellington Zoo, Danny Quinn, former police detective, Stephen Hart," he smirked, "The prettiest man outside Hollywood-"

"Connor . . ."

"And research assistant to Dr. Cutter, and then, drumroll please, Connor Temple, former student."

"And then you do some bit of math or computer brilliance and they shut up," Stephen pointed out.

Connor shrugged. "I know, but it might be nice to skip that and get a modicum of respect to start instead."

"Fair point."

* * *

He'd finally got the stupid anomaly creation device to send the spinosaur home, been lowered to the ground by that Matt Anderson person, and Stephen arrived next to him and had him in a headlock. "What have I told you about idiotic heroics, Connor?"

"Leave them to you?" he asked. "Can you let me out of your armpit Stephen? Or are you going to be a complete berk about this?"

"I vote for berk," Becker said. "You've earned it, Temple."

"Bite me," Connor told him.

From behind them a wonderfully familiar voice shouted, "Connor, you bloody idiot! Don't you dare do that to me again!"

Stephen let him go. "Abby," Connor breathed as she crashed into him, knocking them both over and kissing him. "God, I missed you," he told her.

"You stink," she informed him. She pulled him to his feet and started dragging him past Stephen, who was still kissing Sarah.

But Connor stopped dead. "Sarah? What happened?"

The kissing pair pulled apart then, Stephen abruptly pulling away and staring at his archaeologist girlfriend. In her right hand was a forearm crutch, and she listed a little to that side, leaning on Stephen for support. "Sarah?" Stephen asked, looking horrified. "My God."

"I'm alright," she told him. "I'm just glad you're back."

"She was hurt trying to get you all home," Abby said. "If it weren't for Danny, I don't think she'd've made it."

"Where is Danny? I'll have to thank him," Stephen said.

Sarah made a face. "Back at home, or at least he's supposed to be. He got a broken leg and arm the other day, leaping onto the back of the dinosaur of the day. It was very dramatic until he fell off," she said.

"What are you doing here?" Stephen scolded her, picking her up and carrying her to the car he and Connor had driven to the arena in.

"I needed to see you for myself. I couldn't wait in the ARC," she told him.

Connor followed, asking Abby, "How's Lynn?"

"She's . . . Lynn," Abby said with a teary sort of smile. "She never gave up on you coming back. She's recorded all the Doctor Who episodes, every single new fantasy, horror and science fiction television show that's been new on television over the last year, all the dinosaur specials and has a list of video games she thinks you'd like lined up for your perusal."

"Tell me everything," Connor urged. "How's she doing in school? How'd the injuries clear up? Who's she threatened with Gertrude's head lately?"

Lynn's injuries had cleared up fine, she was doing well, Lester had invoked some sort of influence to get both her and Beth into a new school and had somehow magicked away tuition fees, Lynn hated that her new school needed a uniform, but she and Beth were ringleaders of a posse (Lynn's word of choice) of dinosaur enthusiasts who would likely tackle Connor the moment he got back, demanding dinosaur minutiae, and she hadn't threatened anyone with Gertrude, but Abby had the sense that Matt was likely to be the next victim.

And then they were walking into the new nerve centre of the ARC, which looked like something out of a science fiction film. "Wow," Connor said, staring at the setup that might have once been his ADD, "Sexy stuff."

"Hi," said the incredibly perky young woman. "I'm Jess Parker, and you're Connor Temple and Stephen Hart. I'm so pleased to meet you. You're practically legends around here, you know."

Stephen smiled at her, she flushed, and Connor said to him, "I told you, Stephen, prettiest man outside Hollywood."

Stephen rolled his eyes. Jess said, "I don't know, I think Becker could give him a run for his money," then she flushed and turned to the ADD.

As they'd both had to listen to Abby and Sarah giggle over Becker's good looks, they shared a moment of mutual amusement over it. Something that was interrupted by a familiar voice saying, "Let me guess. You missed the last bus back."

"Something like that," the two men chorused. The year with nothing but each other to rely on had forged a bond that Connor rather thought would always be there.

Then, from the far side of the room came a shriek from another familiar voice that made Connor's heart stop. "Let me go! Let me go I want to see my Dad! You bloody berk! You stupid, tacky-suited, poncy git!"

A man in a tacky blue suit was dragging Lynn into the room. "Who brought this brat in here!" he demanded.

Connor wasn't even sure how he crossed the room that fast, only that he had to put his fist through the bastard's face. "You let go of my daughter right now!" he growled at the man lying shocked on the ground.

"Dad!"

"Lynn," he groaned as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "God, I've missed you. Have you been good for Abby?"

"Yeah," Lynn said. "I didn't even say nasty things to the mums at my new school who called Abby bad names because you weren't there."

"Lynn?" Danny arrived at the scene, limping on his casted leg, struggling with his broken arm. "Oh, good, someone hit the berk," he said as he ignored the man in the suit, who had pulled himself to his feet. "I brought Lynn over as soon as Lester called with the news you were back."

Stephen came over. "I hear I have you to thank for Sarah still being here," he said. "So, thank you." He turned to Connor. "Nice hit."

"It's great to see you both," Danny said, and pulled them into a brief hug. "Even better if you're hitting Burton there."

"Who is he, anyhow?" Stephen asked as he gave Lynn the hug she was demanding from him.

Sarah was looking disapprovingly at the man. "The government, after disbanding the ARC, decided they had to put it back together when a stegosaurus invaded parliament."

"Really?" Connor said. "They still got the footage of that?"

"Oh, yes," Abby said. "It's sort of funny, actually. It didn't really do much. It was mostly accidental tail damage."

"Anyhow," Sarah said, "They decided to partially privatise things, so Philip Burton here gets to play tin pot dictator."

"Dad," Lynn said, "You stink."

"I'm sure I do," Connor told her.

While Burton sputtered, Lester said, "Well, I think you'll both want a few days to readjust, then we'll discuss what we're going to do as regards placing you both on teams again."

"No!" snapped Burton. "If you will recall, we have a policy of hiring only military-"

"Which we waived in the case of the previous employees being allowed to regain their positions should they wish it," Lester said pointedly.

"Mr. Quinn's injuries-"

It was Sarah's turn to snap, "Do I need to give you a list of military personnel far worse injured than Danny from far less dangerous situations?"

Burton's lips compressed and he turned with a huff. "Come on," Sarah said to Stephen. "Cleo and Tony have missed you."

"And I'm pretty sure Rex has missed you too," Abby said with a grin. "Not as much as Lynn and I have, though."

"Marry me?" Connor asked her again.

He heard Jess make a high pitched noise in the background and Lester make a disgusted sort of noise. "Say yes!" Lynn shouted.

"I'll think about it," Abby said. "Just-"

"When I'm not high on adrenaline and relief?" Connor asked her.

"Pretty much," Abby said. "I just . . ." she trailed off.

"You want to be sure I really mean it."

"He really means it!" Lynn said.

Lester sighed. "Temple, you have the romantic instincts of a dead rat."

"That's not up to your usual standards, Lester," Connor said. Then he turned to Abby, "Let's go home."

"Then you can ask again and Mum can say yes," Lynn said.

"Lynn . . ."

Lynn grumbled, cuddling into her dad and refusing to let go, forcing Connor to sit in the back seat where she could do that. When they got home, Lynn bolted past Gertrude for the telephone, "I'm calling Grandma Lettie!" and Connor headed to have a shower.

When he came out, Lettie was waiting to shout at him, cry, shout some more, then inform him in no uncertain terms he, Abby and Lynn were coming home for the weekend.

After the call was finally over, Lynn was telling him everything he'd missed on television, Abby was cuddled into his side and a hot cappuccino was steaming on the table in front of him.

He didn't think it got any better than that.

* * *

"Jake, what are you doing?" Lettie asked as she looked in on Lynn and her erstwhile second son, who were deeply involved in a discussion about something to do with iguanas, ribbon, rings and maiasaurs.

He looked up at her, about to speak, when Lynn answered. "We're figuring out how Dad's going to propose to Abby. I keep telling him he's going to have to train Ernie to come to his treats if he wants to use him to deliver the ring to Abby."

"Use . . . Ernie?"

A sheepish look on his face, Connor said, "Erm . . . well, Abby wants me to propose when it's clear I'm not just doing it because I'm happy we're not dead, so I figured I'd best do some extra-romantic thing that requires a lot of planning and all."

"And this requires . . . who's Ernie?" Then Lettie thought about it. "_What's_ Ernie?"

"Abby's iguana," Lynn told her. "We thought about using Rex, but he's as likely as not to lose the ring. Ernie'll just walk over."

Lettie stared. "You're having an iguana deliver the engagement ring? Because it's romantic?"

"Well, Abby says she's a lizard girl," Connor said defensively.

Dropping her head to her hands, Lettie said, "Jake . . ."

"It has to be . . . Abby, yeah?" he said. "I mean, it's got to be like her, right?"

"Why don't you just dress up like a lizard then," Lettie said.

He shook his head. "I thought about it, but when she heard that story about Keith and the chicken suit she told me outright I shouldn't, and . . ." he took in the look on her face. "Oh. You were being sarcastic."

"You're normally better at catching that," she said dryly. "Is there something wrong with flowers and a walk on the beach?"

Lynn gave her a disdainful look. "We're in _England_," she said pointedly. "It'll rain if he tries that."

"Since when are you victim to stereotypes propagated by everyone else about the UK?" Lettie asked.

There was a pause as the nine-year-old processed that sentence, then said, "So, you're saying it won't rain?"

"Taking her to where you met?" Lettie offered.

He shook his head. "That's under constant military surveillance since an anomaly's opened there more than once, and always to the same era. Anyhow, I don't really want to wander around the Forest of Dean for that long."

"First date?"

"Interrupted by that marsupial lion."

"First kiss?"

"Lynn interrupted and told us all about the fact that she had a five-pound bet on with Danny about it."

"Well, I thought he should make a turkey and stick it inside with the stuffing, then she'd find it there and he could tell her that since dinosaurs brought them together, he was using a dinosaur to bring them togetherer."

That prompted a baffled stare. Then, "Togetherer? Turkey?"

"Turkeys are some of the closest birds, anatomically, to dinosaurs," Connor said tiredly. "So, Lynn's trying to suggest I do the closest thing to cooking a velociraptor and sticking a ring in it."

Lettie shook her head and sighed. "That still doesn't answer togetherer."

"Well, they're already together," Lynn said. "So, if they get married, they're not just getting together, they're getting more together. Together-_er_."

"You are a terrible influence," she informed Connor.

"What's he done now?" Abby asked as she came in. She'd been doing her yoga in Lettie's back yard, since they were staying over for the weekend, which was why Lynn and Connor had taken the chance to plot in her absence.

"I am fully aware that you would never leave Lynn with the impression that it's okay to say, 'togetherer'," Lettie informed her.

Abby shot them both a speculative look. "Lynn, are you trying to get us married off again?"

"And people say men are afraid of commitment," Connor muttered as he left the three women in his life to hide from the conversation's sudden turn to a lengthy discussion of some television show about fashion designers and their competition to make wedding dresses. Once upstairs, he pulled the small box out of his pocket that held the ring he was hoping to propose to Abby with. A year's worth of back pay had given him enough to afford a custom design, and he'd spent a long time getting it right with the jeweller. The ring itself was designed to look like a lizard, but the metal was steel, chosen because it didn't tarnish and was hard-wearing. There were two tiny yellow sapphires winking from the eyes, and the tail and forefeet came together to hold a diamond.

He'd waited three days after returning and moving back in with Abby and Lynn, planned to propose, had managed to get Lettie to watch Lynn for the evening and let him and Abby go out to dinner. He'd been about to ask again, this time with no post-drama adrenaline, when she said, "I'm really glad you're not proposing now, Conn."

"How come?" he'd asked.

She'd smiled at him and said, "Because this soon after I said no, it would have been really obvious you were just waiting for there to be no, 'thank God we're alive' moment associated with it."

After he'd been called in from the field to get Burton out of his self-made death trap where he was slowly suffocating to death, Connor had internally cursed, pushing back his intended proposal date. Abby had been too furious after Burton's attempts to get the menagerie animals put down for Connor to try his luck, the mess with the idiots in that stupid town backwoods of nowhere and their illegal petrol operation had pushed things back again. He was now trying to plan something elaborate enough that Abby couldn't say he was doing it because of adrenaline or something, but just simple enough that he could pull it off at a moment's notice.

It was not easy.

But with everything going on, he'd begun to doubt that Abby wanted to get married at all, and when he was feeling particularly awful, he wondered if she wanted to stay with him full stop, and was just sticking around for Lynn.

Danny was almost recovered from his broken limbs, but he hadn't checked out yet for going into the field. So the team dispatched to the grand old estate to look for the anomaly in its basement was Abby, Connor, Stephen and Matt. Stephen and Connor had, in the year they were gone, developed a sort of bait and draw technique, both of them pretending they weren't paying attention in order to trick predators into falling over cliffs and running into things. When it came down to it, Stephen didn't know the ins and outs of animal behaviour generally, but he knew what to do with animals that were tracking him.

Senses heightened by his time in the past, he and Stephen both deliberately each presented their backs to one of the two areas the animal was most likely to come from, then covered for each other's deliberate blind spot. Connor was filling the silence with empty chatter when he heard movement behind him and saw Stephen's EMD come up. He whirled around, his shot hitting the wolflike creature only a moment after Stephen's did.

"Hyaenodon, male," Abby said.

Connor shrugged at Stephen when the man shot him a look. "What? I do dinosaurs, not ancient mammals."

They split into pairs, Abby going with Matt, shooting Connor a mildly irritated look as she went, Stephen going with Connor. "How are things with Abby?" Stephen asked.

He made a face. "I think I'm going to have to make a huge production out of proposing so she'll know I really mean it," Connor said with a sigh. "I've got the ring and all, I just don't know what to do. Lynn thinks I should tie the ring onto a ribbon around the iguana's neck and get him to walk up to Abby to musical fanfare."

"Can you train a lizard?" Stephen asked, doubtfully.

Connor shrugged, "Who knows? I think Lynn's going to try, though." Then he asked, "So, how are things going with Sarah?"

"Well, her mother is unhappy because I'm not a nice Muslim lad, and her dad's less than pleased that I'm from," Stephen put on a terrible accent that sounded like a vague collision of cockney with Welsh that left Connor wondering what it was _supposed_ to be, "A bleedin', snippy, posh, twit who wouldn't know an honest day's labour." Stephen shook his head. "Or something like that. Apparently it's fine to speak like an educated person if you're his wife or daughter, but not me."

That was sort of funny, really. "So, her Dad's what? Some regular bloke who switched over from the C of E to Islam?"

"Pretty much," Stephen said. "Of course, I expect my parents will be less than thrilled I'm engaged to one of the 'invading hordes'."

"Don't like immigrants much?" Connor asked, wincing. "The pair of you do seem stuck on both ends."

"I almost envy you," Stephen said. "At least Lettie likes Abby, and Abby doesn't have parents for you to impress."

"No," Connor said. "That's true, but her brother's a prat."

"He is, at that," Stephen agreed, both of them remembering a dead-looking future with giant bugs and mutant bats and a berk who didn't seem to give a damn he'd nearly got one of the team killed.

Then suddenly a figure appeared through the draping plastic and, "Jenny."

"Connor? Stephen?"

Abby and Matt caught up as Stephen said, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, no, no, no," she said, backing away a few steps. "This can't be happening. What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here?" she asked, staring at the five of them. Then she laughed, pointing at them and saying in tones that made it clear she was hoping more than expecting it to be true, "This is a joke, right? But how did you know I was getting married?"

Connor found himself exchanging wincing looks with Stephen. This could not end well. "Married?" Abby echoed.

Matt, ignoring other people, as he did so often - not really a people person, that one - looked behind them through the plastic sheets as they talked.

"You're here, and . . . Oh, my God, there's an anomaly," Jenny said.

Jenny was sharp, you had to give her that. "I'm Matt Anderson," said the Irishman as Jenny turned away, clearly trying to compose herself.

"What am I going to tell him?" demanded Jenny.

"Who?" Abby asked.

Stephen was shaking behind him, and Connor was rather well aware that the man was trying not to laugh. "Don't," he muttered, "Because if you do, I'll start, and then Abby and Jenny will kill us. You know what Jenny's like with a rifle."

"Michael?" Jenny said as though they should know who that is. "My fiancé?" Which was kind of obvious, now that Connor thought about it. "I'm not a demanding bride," Jenny said, over Abby's faint, 'Oh.' "Really. I'm not. Rain, I can handle. Wrong flowers? Fine. Dinosaurs? I draw the line."

He didn't know why he did it, it was habit, really. Years of being sick of people conflating 'really old' with 'dinosaur' had made it a reflex. "Actually, they're more like prehistoric dogs this time."

Their former PR specialist was . . . unpleased. "Jenny, the anomaly's locked and we've dealt with the incursion," Abby said comfortingly. "It's going to be okay."

Just as Jenny started to look up, hopeful that this had not come back to haunt her new, anomaly-free life, Matt said, "We should really clear the place for a day or two. 'Til we know everything's safe."

As Abby and Jenny both glared at Matt, Stephen finally cracked, bursting into laughter. The ridiculous nature of the moment caught up to him, and Connor joined him, howling. The two women were more than sufficient to cow Matt into saying hastily, "Or we could search the rest of the property now and keep an eye on things while you get married."

"Great," said Jenny.

"Ow," said Connor as Abby kicked him.

"Bloody hell," Stephen added as the same booted foot struck him right after.

Coming to a decision, Jenny said, "And what the hell, you're all invited to the wedding."

When they split up, Abby shot Stephen and Connor another glare and stomped off with Matt. "She's really not that happy with me, I guess," Connor said. "Sometimes I think Abby doesn't quite understand that I'm not . . ." he trailed off, not sure how to express it.

"That you're not one of her girlfriends?" Stephen offered. "I think, because we're both slightly less than normal, Sarah and Abby think it means we're not blokes who watch sports and like looking at nice-looking women."

"Maybe," Connor nodded.

They ambled up to Jenny, who'd been happily wandering the grounds with her groom. "Stephen, Connor, I've told Michael all about the mad PR firm we used to work for," she said.

Michael shook their hands. "Nice to meet you."

"I don't think mad's quite the term," Connor said with a grin.

Michael looked at Stephen, and said, "So, you're all in public relations?"

"Well, Stephen got in a bit sideways," Connor said. He'd been waiting to use this ever since Stephen had admitted to it back in the Cretaceous. "He was doing modelling. Turned out to have a bit of a talent for talking single women into things."

"Yes," said Stephen, shooting Connor a look that promised revenge, or at least frogs in the spare pants in his locker at the ARC. "Of course, Connor's really the one with his finger on the pulse of what women want. Practically one of the girls."

"I _will_ tell my daughter you're after getting back on the high score board at Barbie Horse Adventures," Connor told him, pointedly.

Laughing, Jenny said, "You're still losing to Caitlyn at that?"

"He loses to Sarah at that too. Actually Sarah and Lynn are in a duel to the death for the top spot," Connor said. "Or so Abby tells me."

Michael shot a curious look at the EMDs then, causing Jenny to say hastily, "Paintball!"

"Yeah," Connor said, catching on. "Team-building exercises and . . . things. Spend a lot of time on it," he felt himself starting to ramble and desperately tried to think of a way out of it.

"Connor's bad at it," Stephen said cheerfully cutting Connor off. "Goodness knows the time I've spent trying to teach him how to hit the broad side of a barn."

"Drinks?" Jenny said, a tad desperate herself. "Abby! And . . . Matt, was it?" They turned to see the two coming up to them. "Join us inside for drinks?"

"I'd best catch up with Emily," Matt said.

Abby smiled. "I'd love to," she said to Jenny. She turned her back on Connor and ignored him.

"Do you know what I did?" Connor asked Stephen. "She wasn't angry at me until the hyaenodon."

Stephen shrugged. "Maybe she didn't like our 'distracted bait' technique."

"That could be it," Connor said. Abby hated it when he let himself be the bait. He was usually in for being yelled at when he did it.

Once inside the mansion, they joined Michael and Jenny in champagne, Michael fishing for hints about what Jenny had done at the 'PR firm'. Eventually Michael wound up chatting with Stephen while Jenny told them about meeting with her fiancé. It just sort of slipped out. "You know," he said to Abby, "We should get married here."

Abby shot him a look that was half shock and half something he couldn't quite read. "Connor," she said. "You haven't-"

And suddenly, it was as though all his worries about Abby, about whether she _really_ wanted to be with him, really wanted to marry him, would ever say yes, it all sort of bubbled up. "I _have_ asked," he said, standing suddenly. "But you don't seem all that interested in saying 'yes'." Jenny's eyes were wide as she looked from Connor to Abby and back. He knew he was making an idiot of himself, but feeling overwhelmed by the feeling that Abby was just playing nice for Lynn and his sakes made him feel reckless. "You know what? I give up. You don't want to, fine. I bought the ring for you, so you might as well have it, but I'll stop asking." Then he turned and stalked away, tossing Abby the box.

He walked away, not really sure where he was going, but just staying away from people. He didn't want to see any people, especially since Abby probably thought he was a right berk for doing that. Ten minutes of aimless wandering and he pulled out his mobile and called Lynn. "Dad?" she sounded breathless.

"Hey, sweetheart. What are you up to?"

" . . . Stuff."

"Let me talk to Danny," Connor said. There was some shuffling, then Danny's voice was on the line. "What are you getting Lynn into?"

"Connor, I am hurt that you would think I would get your daughter into anything amoral or otherwise unfortunate," Danny said.

"Just promise me it doesn't involve Gertrude's head."

There was a pause, then Danny said in what was a clearly deliberately unconvincing voice. "No. It has nothing to do with Gertrude's head."

"Put Lynn back on, would you?" Connor asked. "And Danny, if you get caught at whatever you're doing, I'm not putting up any money for bail."

There was some more fumbling, then Lynn was on the line again, blurting out, "You're only in trouble if you get caught!"

"Don't quote Aladdin at me. How are we getting Gertrude's head back?"

"We'll figure something out," Lynn told him cheerfully. "So, how's things going?"

"Turns out Jenny's getting married and we sort of stumbled on it," he said. "Anyhow, we've been sort of invited to the wedding-"

"Can I come?"

"No," Connor said. "I think Lester won't be happy if we drag you along to an anomaly site. Anyhow, Danny's off the rotation at the moment, you know."

Lynn sighed disappointedly. "Okay. Oh! Gotta go!" Then she was gone and Connor was seriously considering heading right back to London, anomaly or no.

* * *

Hours later he was stuck in the wine cellar, having avoided talking to Abby or anyone else for hours, then found the rest of the hyaenodon family. Staring out the window, he saw a familiar two pairs of legs walking down the drive. "Danny? Lynn?"

"Dad?" Lynn hurried over and crouched by the window. "What're you doing down there?"

"Hoping I could get reception to get Abby or someone on the line," he said. "We thought there was just the one hyaenodon, but there's a whole family."

"And they're out," Danny said with a sigh. "Why do animals keep going through? Aren't they supposed to be frightened of unfamiliar things?"

"Abby thinks it might have to do with a magnetic internal compass that lets animals migrate so well," Connor said. "Anyhow, you've got to warn the others. Hopefully we can let the wedding go on and keep the guests from being eaten."

"Right," Danny said. "Connor, I'll come in to get you, Lynn, go and warn the others."

By the time they got up there, Lynn was looking ready to kill someone as adults pinched her cheeks over her cute hysterics. "You imbecilic halfwits!" she shouted.

"You're girl's brilliant," Danny said idly as Abby finally pushed her way past the crowd, followed by Stephen.

Lynn scampered past them, handing the pistol she'd clearly stolen from Danny if the look on his face was any indication, over to Jenny. "Mum said you're like an action hero with a gun."

Then the bloody things attacked. Stephen, as was his wont, superheroed his way about while Lynn got scooped up and carted off by Emily, much to Connor's relief. The whole thing was a mess of chaos.

Connor found himself playing evacuation director with Danny until they finally received the all-clear from Matt. They got back, greeted by Jenny saying, "Connor, can you arrange something so that Lester and officiate for me and Michael. It seems the vicar's not up to much."

"Sure," Connor said, feeling a tad guilty they hadn't been more careful and had wrecked Jenny's wedding. "I'm really sorry."

"It's alright," she told him. "At least this reminded me why I left."

"Ow!" came Matt's voice from the far side of the room. "What're . . . ow! Stop kicking me!"

"Next time, when I say there's monsters, you'd better bloody believe there's monsters!" Lynn snapped, and kicked Matt one more time for good measure. "Patronising berk."

"Lynn, don't call my superiors berks, please," Connor said. "And no threatening him with Gertrude's head."

While Emily apologised with lovely sincerity to Lynn for not believing her and Matt nursed his bruised shins, Connor collected a monitor and began hooking things up. "Connor?" Abby said.

"Yeah?" he asked, sorting through some wires for the right connector.

"I'm sorry."

"Wha - ow," he smacked his head on the table as he sat up. "What for? I'm the one who should be apologising, throwing the ring at you like that and all."

"I'm sorry I made you think I didn't really want to get married, the ring's perfect and I love it and I love you and yes, I'll marry you!"

"Really?" he asked. Wordlessly she nodded and practically tackled him, kissing him.

"Ahem," Jenny said from behind them. "Far be it from me to interfere with the course of true love and all that, but I'd rather like to be married sometime today."

"Right, right," Connor scrambled out from under Abby and went back to work.

In the background he could hear the others congratulating Abby on the engagement and Jenny cooing over the ring while Lynn bemoaned her lack of opportunity to train Ernie to deliver small packages and informed Abby that the Temple-Maitland wedding should have a reptile theme and a giant anaconda-shaped cake.

A few phone calls later and Jenny was married via Skype, and Connor was feeling irritated that he hadn't been allowed a proper setup, having been backed into standing between the pair while holding his laptop because Jenny was in too much of a hurry to let him scavenge the right parts.

When the newlywed couple began their first dance, stopping every few seconds to kiss, Lynn, plopped between Connor and Abby, said, "If you don't want to eat food someone else has spit on, why's it okay to stick your mouth into someone else's?"

Stephen, comfortably sprawled off to the side taking pictures for Sarah, said, "To use Connor's explanation, Lynn, you'll understand when you go insane with the rest of us grownups."

Sarah's tinny voice issued from the mobile at once, berating both Connor and Stephen while Emily looked flummoxed at them, Matt expressionlessly staring until he locked eyes with Lynn, who mouthed, "It's on," at him. Danny was laughing and Abby managed to snuggle into Connor and look sternly disapproving at the same time.

It was his life writ small into that moment, and Connor wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Emily had been duly introduced to Barbie Horse Adventures, the ongoing attempts to keep Stephen from winning at the game, Gertrude (still headless), then Gertrude's head when Burton came storming into the ARC in fine fettle because he had woken to a deinonychus head in his bed, covered in fake blood, which he had promptly blamed Becker of all people for.

"I beg your pardon?" Becker asked, looking even more staid and unmovingly military than usual.

Burton was almost frothing at the mouth. "You heard me! Whatever idiotic practical joke you've decided to pull, Captain, I will not stand for it! I-"

"Gertrude!" Abby exclaimed, interrupting the ranting billionaire. "Really, I just hope whichever of you stole her head are ashamed of yourselves! Lynn's been almost distraught!" she lied.

Danny, turning red and apparently holding his breath lest he incriminate himself, ducked down a nearby hall, followed by Stephen and Sarah. Connor took in a shaking breath and backed Abby up. "Thank you," he said. "My brother had just won the bid for this on eBay when he died. It means a lot to me."

"Well, I . . . er . . ." the dapper man said as Connor scooped the head up and headed for his locker, dumping it in the bottom.

Emily poked her head in and commented, "It's not quite accurate, is it?"

"Well, it was modelled before we knew they had feathers," Connor said. "It was pretty accurate to the science at the time in most ways."

"A little like Crystal Palace, then?" Emily asked.

"A bit," he agreed.

"Can I ask," she said, "Given that you all attempt to keep the gates - anomalies, secret from the masses, why does Caitlyn know about them?"

He sighed. "A couple years back she got kidnapped by Leek, who used to work here. And Helen. Anyhow, that mess pretty much gave it away, not to mention the time some of my friends got curious, followed me and brought home a dodo while they were supposed to be babysitting her. So, now she knows enough that I just pretty much tell her what's going on. There's no real point in keeping the broad strokes of it a secret."

Emily nodded. "I see your point."

His mobile rang then, and Connor glanced at the display in surprise. "Lynn? Is something wrong?"

"I am breaking the school rules about mobiles to tell you that if you confirm that all the gross stuff Erin's sister just told us about blood, monthly cramping, where babies come from and why you adults get all weird about touching each other weird, I'm telling everyone your going crazy theory, because it sounds like it's completely right."

"What did Erin's sister tell you?" Connor asked, wanting to know before he said anything one way or another. He was treated to a diatribe about menstrual cycles that eventually forced him to look around, desperate, and grab the only female person nearby. "Hang on a sec, Lynn. Emily, help!"

The Victorian woman took the phone from his hand, and after a moment of fumbling to get it right, then she took over and listened to Lynn's whole story. "It's not as bad as all that," she offered when Lynn had apparently wound down. "Some women get all those, but it's only a few days, the cramping can be dealt with, with heat and I'm sure the pain reducing items are far better now." A long pause. "Yes, that's where babies come from." Another, longer, pause. "When you put it that way, it _does_ sound a little mad, but it's quite true."

Lynn's, "Why would you do that?" came over the phone, audible even to Connor.

"It's rather fun, and if people want babies, they have to do it," Emily told her. "Your friend Erin's sister was accurate, if a tad gauche. You may want to talk to Abby about it, though." She looked at Connor, "She wants to talk to you again."

"Thanks. Lynn?"

"I'm going to tell everyone we're going to go mad when we hit thirteen," Lynn said.

"No, you're not," Connor said firmly. "Lynn, mad is relative, especially in this case. Second, most people don't see it that way and I don't want to get called in and yelled at for telling you things other people think are lies."

"Is that why Sarah yells at Stephen when he agrees with you about it?"

"Yes."

There was a pause, then Lynn said, rather doubtfully, "Okay, then. But I still think people should be warned. Because that's really, really weird."

"You'll feel different at thirteenish," Connor promised her. "Now stop breaking the mobile rules."

"Bye Dad."

He turned to Emily. "Thank you. I'm sorry, but I'd always planned on having Abby explain everything, or at least a female friend."

She gave him a wry smile. "I wish I'd had parents as willing to explain it all. I'm happy to help." Then she frowned. "That reminds me, I must ask someone about current means of coping."

Seeing Sarah coming around the corner, Connor fled, saying, "Sarah, I think Emily needs to talk to you - well, someone female, at any rate, excuse me."

He had something to work on, anyhow. Burton had grudgingly offered him access to some of the peripheral calculations about the anomalies going on at Prospero, and he had some ideas he wanted to put into motion. One week later he had his chance to test it.

"Is that your Xbox?" Stephen asked curiously as he flipped switches and ran a few diagnostics on his laptop.

"Yes," he replied.

"Lynn won't be happy about that," Becker said from his other side.

"I know that," Connor winced, imagining her shrill voice when she came back to discover she wasn't going to be able to play her latest personal fad, Lego Star Wars.

"So, what is it?" Stephen asked, nodding at Connor's invention.

"A dating calculator," Connor said absently. "I wanted to test it out. I think I messed up some, because it's sort of wavering. Telling me the Pliocene and then 1800-something."

Stephen 'hmm'ed. "Well, when you get that cleared up, it should be fairly useful."

"Burton may be a bit of a smug berk, but he's also a bit of a genius," Connor admitted. "I'm working off his calculations, after all."

And then the anomaly unlocked and a terror bird came hurtling out of it, screeching at them. "You're not too bad yourself," Stephen said as he shot at the thing. "You managed to get it within a decent range."

"Get it locked, Temple!" Becker shouted, dodging away from a lunge. The bird seemed to decide they were too much trouble as it spun around and ran back through.

Connor relocked it, only to have the bloody thing pop open again a minute later. "Damn it," he muttered. "There must be something wrong with this one. We'll need a different machine," he said, running a diagnostic even as he argued with the machine to try to keep the anomaly closed.

A familiar screeching echoed down the halls, this one from somewhere in the rest of the old prison complex. Abby's voice came out of their coms, "There's a terror bird down here!"

Stephen and Becker exchanged some sort of manly, gun-bearing psychic exchange, and Stephen was off, leaving Connor alone with Becker and a few SFs by the flickering anomaly. A moment later, though, Danny was saying, "What the hell?"

The others all returned a bit later, Abby saying, "It's like these weaker anomalies are opening up all over." She turned to Connor, "It was an anomaly, but it looked paler, and it was gone almost right after the bird went back through."

"So, it's like it was just there and gone?" Connor asked, frowning.

"It would explain about the missing tourist," Stephen said. "If it just snapped open long enough for the man to get snatched, then closed."

"What happened?" Matt asked as he came striding up to them with the locker Connor had asked for. While the others explained, Connor booted up the new one, locked the anomaly, then, "Bugger!"

"I thought you were locking it," Becker said.

"I did! It popped open with this one too," Connor protested. "There's something . . ." he trailed off as the idea struck him. "There's something wrong with this anomaly. The lockers won't work on it."

Suddenly the thing rippled, "Something's coming through!" Matt exclaimed.

Two people came through, filthy, familiar, were greeted by Matt's EMD and hit the floor unconscious. "Cutter!" Stephen shouted, racing to his friend's side. Beside him lay Clarke, looking even worse for wear than Cutter.

"Danny?" Connor said, "You have handcuffs on you? Maybe a billy club?"

"No," Danny said ruefully. "But I think we can bodge something up."

"Stephen?" Cutter said, groaning.

"Hey, Nick," Stephen grinned down at his friend. "I'm right here, and you've made it home."

"Nice to have you back, mate," Danny said cheerfully as he hastily consulted with one of the SFs. "I think Lester's missed arguing with you."

Cutter looked like . . . well, like Stephen and Connor had when they'd made it back. Filthy, ragged, tired, bearded and very relieved. "You and Connor alright?" he asked.

"We're okay," Connor told him. "Spent a year fending off that bloody spinosaurus, but we're okay. What's up with Clarke?" who hadn't regained consciousness.

Snorting, Cutter said, "If Helen's his mother he certainly didn't inherit much from her besides the nastiness."

"I hate to break this up," Matt said, "But Danny-"

"Stephen," Connor cut in.

"What?" Stephen asked.

"No," Connor said, "I mean, Matt, you were about to tell Danny to take Cutter back to the ARC, right? Send Stephen."

"Why?" Matt asked suspiciously.

Abby snorted, "Matt, just because you don't like that Danny's as much a team leader as you are, doesn't mean you get to boot him out just because you butt heads."

"Fine. Stephen," Matt said. "Ethan's on his way and we need to be ready."

Danny straightened, then as Stephen pulled Cutter to his feet and started helping the man out the door, the former policeman pulled a gun out of his jeans where it had been concealed, strode over to the two men and dropped it into Cutter's palm. "Just in case."

Matt looked about to say something, but he just shook his head disapprovingly and walked off to consult with the SFs about a perimeter and catching Ethan. A few of them separated themselves out and picked up Clarke's dead weight and carted him away. "I don't suppose you have any more, do you?" Becker asked, looking like Lynn at a pet store snake tank. Big eyes and Oliver Twist with just a dash of petulance. It wasn't a good look on him.

"You don't have one?" Danny and Stephen chorused. Then Stephen said, "And no, I'm not giving you mine."

Becker vanished down the hall after Matt, muttering about his pet shotgun.

After Connor created the feedback loop with the anomaly things suddenly moved quickly, and then it all stopped as Danny set eyes on Ethan for the first time. "Patrick?" he asked, reaching for the dark haired man. "Patrick," he breathed in relief.

"It's his brother," Abby said in disbelief.

But Connor's thought was only of one thing as Ethan or Patrick or however he thought of himself was carted off. "Matt, can you make sure they run a paternity test on Ethan and Clarke?"

"Why?" Matt asked, honestly puzzled.

"No one told you?" Connor said. "Lynn's Clarke's biological daughter, and we're pretty sure Helen slept with Patrick, because Danny's related to Lynn."

Matt blinked at him a moment. "That's . . . a tad complicated, but I'll make sure that happens."

"Thanks," Connor said, then headed back to the anomaly. He still had to figure out what was wrong with it. It was as he tried to break it down, start over from the top that he recalled Burton's equations that he'd seen. With Abby's help, he was proved right. It was two anomalies. On a hunch, he pointed his new dating doohickey (he thought it was rather catchier than his 'dating calculator', but he'd never tell anyone that was its real name) at first one than the other. "Pliocene," he said to her. Just where the bloody turkeys were coming from. "1867," he told Abby. "Someone has to tell Emily."

They were going to tell Emily, but they were derailed by a shouting match between Burton and Cutter, who was apparently so incensed he was sounding a tad like Connor's gran as he shouted, "You daft ninny! The woman planned to wipe out all of humanity! Don't stand there and try to pretend you weren't tricked like the numpty you are!"

"Numpty?" Connor muttered to Stephen, who was watching the show, bemused.

"He must be upset to be channelling his mum," Stephen muttered back. "It's not like him at all."

"Where's Clarke? And Ethan . . . Patrick, whichever?" Connor asked.

Stephen shrugged. "There's a few rooms down the west corridor they're using."

Connor's first stop was the lab where Matt had managed to push a rush on the results, because testing for paternity was relatively uncomplicated, all things considered, and they had state of the art technology. Ethan was Clarke's father. Which meant he was Lynn's grandfather, and Connor had to talk to the man and figure out what to do about it. But first, he swung by the room they were holding Clarke in. He wanted to get in a little gloating.

Clarke was still a wreck. He was sitting in his chair, shivering, whipping around at every small sound, looking like a hunted animal. Considering what the distant past was like, that was probably an accurate state of affairs. Still, Connor was a tad disappointed. He'd thought Helen and Ethan's son would be made of sterner stuff than this. "Where's Cutter?" the man asked, eyes wide. "Is he . . . I mean . . ."

"Cutter's just having a shouting match with Philip Burton over being stupid enough to believe anything your mother says," Connor said. "Really, though, you don't seem to have enjoyed your little trip to the past."

The formerly powerful man just shuddered. "She . . . she made it sound so simple. We're from the present, we've conquered nature," he said. Connor resisted the urge to smack him just for saying the cliché alone. "Intellect conquering the savage world and all that," he continued. "But it wasn't. And when I nearly died she told me to forget about it. Forget that I was nearly eaten by a boar the size of a rhino!"

"You'll be going to prison," Connor said. "I'd think that would weigh against coming back."

Clarke shook his head. "You wouldn't say that if you'd been there," he whimpered. "Prison will be safer."

The man was broken. As he left, Connor told him, "Stephen and I were trapped in the Cretaceous for the last year. There've never been bigger land animals than during the age of dinosaurs, and the next time you're scared of a big pig, remember that we were stuck with a pack of raptors tailing us for a year. I guess you're just not all you thought you were."

Somehow, Connor rather thought that Lynn would have handled a year alone in the prehistoric past better than Clarke.

His next stop was the room they were keeping Ethan in. With him was Danny, looking desperate. "Danny, Patrick. Or do you prefer Ethan?" Connor asked. "Sorry to interrupt, Danny, but the tests came back positive. Patrick's definitely Clarke's father."

"The whinging sod in the next room?" asked the man. "How-"

"Do you remember meeting a woman named Helen Cutter?" Connor asked. "Pretty woman, loved to shove her breasts in your face if she was trying to convince you of things?"

"She did that to you?" Danny asked, amused despite himself.

"Nah, but she did it to Cutter and Stephen every time I saw her."

"I do recall something of that from the one time, yes," Danny mused.

"What about . . ." Ethan realised what that meant. "That's why she didn't come back, she was . . . but why didn't she take me with her?"

"She wasn't raising him," Connor said bluntly. "She handed him over to a family up north and visited once in a while to make sure she still had her claws in him."

That was when Danny looked like he'd had a revelation. "What did she say about me, Patrick? What did she tell you that made you think I'd ever have abandoned you? I did everything I could to find you."

"She said that you'd have gone through the anomaly after me, that . . . that it-"

"There was no anomaly to be found after you disappeared," Danny said softly. "There was just an empty house and your friend who'd made it out. For so long I thought he'd killed you."

"There wasn't a gate? There wasn't still . . . but I've seen it," Ethan said desperately. "Gates that open again and again to the same place and time, pretty much, Helen showed me-"

Connor said, just as gently, "But not the one in that house. It didn't open again until just about two years ago, and if Danny hadn't been at the right place and time to see it, he'd never have known."

"As soon as I did I quit my job and joined up here because it was my best chance at finding you. Patrick, please!"

The man seemed lost as he said slowly, "She lied. Everything was a lie. Why . . . Danny?"

"Yeah?"

And for the first time, Ethan . . . Patrick looked just bewildered and lost, shades of the confused boy who'd stumbled through an anomaly and been tricked by Helen. "How's mum?" he came out with suddenly.

As Danny began to catch his brother up on years of missed news, Connor slipped out and went to corral Lester. "Lester, about Ethan. Patrick. Whichever."

"What about him?"

"Helen had her claws in him. I'm not saying he's not done some awful things, but you may want to get a psychiatrist in to see him. He may not be as bad as he seems," Connor said. "I don't know, but just . . ." he trailed off.

"Just bloody Helen," came Cutter's voice from behind him. "Never in a million years would I have thought I'd have felt such relief seeing my own wife fall over a cliff with a raptor."

Connor just shook his head and sighed. "I'm heading home. I'm going to have to tell Lynn the news and go back to trying to convince her we're not having an anaconda-shaped cake at the wedding."

"Not a horse?" Cutter called after him.

"No, she's harassing Stephen about that. She's working on convincing Sarah to have a horse-themed wedding just to see the look on Stephen's face."

Cutter hurtled off down the hall a moment later. "Stephen! Why didn't you say you were tying the knot! I thought you swore to eternal bachelorhood!"

Connor grinned to himself. He might have encouraged Lynn's suggestions of pink, pony-shaped cakes. Stephen was just so _easy_.


	4. Epilogue and nod to S5

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything anyone recognises.

Notes: It really wasn't supposed to have so much Conby 'shippery in it, but the thing took on a life of its own. Thanks everyone for reading!

* * *

It took the better part of a year, an apocalyptic scale of crisis precipitated by Philip Burton, the organisational skills of Lester, Jenny and Lettie, intervention by Lester's wife, who had to bring all her skills as a professional diplomat to bear on the matter, a fistfight between Jack Maitland and Duncan, thirty-eight and forty-one threats of elopement apiece ("I counted!" said Lynn), far more money than they'd been expecting, but the wedding happened.

It started with the guest list. Connor plopped down on break at the ARC and started scribbling his list. "What are you writing?" Stephen asked.

"The guest list for Abby's and my wedding," Connor said. "So far it's the team . . . well, teams, Abby's berk of a brother, Lettie, Duncan, Jenny and Michael, Faith, Rick and Donnell from the tech department, you know, the only ones left from before Burton, Jess, Lester and Violet Kirkpatrick."

"What about the SFs?" Stephen pointed out. "Half of them have been here all along."

Connor hissed. "You're right. So, that's . . . two . . . fifteen . . . plus ones . . . bloody hell, that's seventy-odd people."

"You haven't even consulted with Abby yet, have you," Stephen said, amused.

Eyeing his amused friend, Connor said, "You already had this with Sarah, didn't you?"

"We both have to have all our families there," Stephen pointed out. "By the time we got finished listing off the aunts, uncles, cousins and plus ones we had an enormous wedding already, and that's without the people we actually _want_ there."

Abby did have people to add. Former workmates from the Wellington Zoo and a few more people from the ARC who she worked with in the menagerie brought the list up to the eighties.

"I didn't even know we knew this many people," Connor complained to Lettie one afternoon.

A knock at the door interrupted. "Maryann! Charles!" Lettie said from the door. "Come in, they're just inside."

"Jake," said the parents of the original Connor's girlfriend.

"Mr. and Mrs. Walsh," he said weakly. "What's . . ." he trailed off.

"Lettie told us everything," Margaret's mum said. "I wanted to meet this little girl you went to such trouble to save."

"Hi," Lynn said, "I'm Caitlyn Rose Temple."

Mrs. Walsh knelt beside the girl and said, smiling sadly, "You know how Jake made up a history for you when he was pretending to be Connor?"

"Yes," Lynn said slowly. Her eyes were narrowed at the woman, still wondering about this.

"Well, he had to make up a mum for you too. Connor's girlfriend was our daughter," explained Mrs. Walsh. "So-"

Lynn was quick as always. "So, he said your daughter was my mum in all the stuff he made up." She turned to Lettie. "You told them?"

Lettie shrugged. "I had to. For one thing, you're still down on the books as being Margaret's daughter and I didn't want this to come back and surprise us all."

"For one thing?" asked Jake.

Mrs. Walsh was already talking to Abby. "You're the one marrying Jake?"

"Er . . . you mean . . . sorry, we all call him Connor at work," Abby said apologetically. "But, yes."

"Mum's a keeper at a private zoo," Lynn said enthusiastically. "And she's got a pet constrictor and an iguana and a draco volans."

"Really? A draco volans? How did you get that?" Mrs. Walsh asked.

Mr. Walsh rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Dear, we're visiting. Maybe you can do shop talk some other time?"

"Maryann's the head veterinarian for a small reptile-centred zoo in York," Lettie put in.

"I just do art reviews," Charles said with a shrug. "Doesn't make as much as some other things, but with Maryann's income and mine we don't need to do so much to get by."

By the end of the evening, Abby had bonded with them and they were informally invited to the wedding.

This prompted Abby to begin bothering Connor to contact his parents and try to make up with them. So, one afternoon they made their way up to his parents' place, Connor muttering imprecations and dire warnings the whole way. As they approached the small house, he braced himself as his brother came down the street towards them. "Jake!"

"Hey, Ken," he said hesitantly. He was startled when he was suddenly grabbed up into a hug, his brother's fist pounding his back.

Ken's eyes looked suspiciously bright as he pulled away. "Jesus, Jake, I can't believe it! Where the hell have you been? What've you been doing?"

"This and that," he muttered. His brother had always laughed when he'd talked about any of his hopes. He wasn't cut out to run a shop of any kind, he knew that. But even when all he'd talked about was getting a job running tech support, his brother had still laughed.

Abby's eyes were narrowed as she cut in. "Most of our work's been classified by the Home Office, but Con - Jake's done more for the technology on our project than anyone else."

For a moment, Ken's jaw gaped open gormlessly, and he felt a surge of satisfaction. Then his brother grinned widely, and said, "Seriously? You're in some top-secret government program engineering and all for them? That's brilliant! I knew you'd make a go of things!"

"Wha'?" that didn't . . . wasn't . . . "You always laughed when I talked about that," he said, the words spilling out, accusatory. "I thought . . . you always thought it was funny that I had," his voice unconsciously changed to an imitation of their father's growl, "Ambitions."

Ken looked taken aback. "No, Jake. I didn't . . . I was just amazed. You're so brilliant that I was always amazed at just how far you were going to go. You thought I was laughing at you?"

"Dad'd say whatever, that I wasn't going to make it, and you'd laugh," he said, hating the whine he could hear in his voice, hating that he wanted this validation.

"Because when it came to you and your dinosaurs and computers and what-all, Dad didn't know his head from his arse," Ken told him.

"And you said they'd be happy to see the back of you," Abby told him, shaking her head. "Not even Jack-"

He snorted, but didn't say anything else. He just turned to Ken. "How're you doing?"

"Good, good. Janice Gardner's my girlfriend again. She agreed after hitting me a dozen times and calling me a berk for being in a coma in a Middle Eastern hospital somewhere."

"Mmm. Abby did the same thing," he said affably, "Only she knew I was . . . er . . . being held in the Amazon by guerrillas."

"What!?" Ken squawked. "Bloody hell, Jake!"

Abby rolled her eyes. "It was your own fault -"

"Cutter and Stephen needed me there for technical help!"

"What happened to being technical support and all?"

"How was I supposed to be technical support staying in London?"

"Stephen says you didn't even take a gun," Abby pointed out sharply.

He sighed. "We're not having this argument again. Stephen was there, and I can't shoot and type at the same time."

Ken eyed them both even as he chivvied them the last steps to the house. "Hell. You'll have to tell me more than that," he said. "Come on. Mum's been worried to death about you. How long were you there?" As he asked, they'd come into the entrance hall to see his mum and dad in the parlour.

"Jake!" exclaimed his mother, rushing over and hugging him. "You look wonderful!" She cupped his face in her hands a moment before saying, "Now take off that hat, you're inside, it's not going to rain in the parlour."

"Dad," he said hesitantly to the stern man who sat grim-faced in an armchair by the fireplace.

"Jacob," said his father.

"I . . . er . . ." facing his dad, he didn't know what to say. The last time they'd spoken his father had all but told him never to come home again, they had their 'real' son back, they didn't need him anymore. The time before that had been when he'd transferred to Central Met to hide himself and Lynn, and he'd said all those things he'd wanted to for years about how his dad's shop was the most soul-sucking job he could imagine and that he was going to do what he wanted and the hell with what his parents thought. The fact that neither of his parents had protested in the least, that his dad had seemed satisfied to see him leave, had hurt. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "This is Abby. My fiancée."

He heard the distinct sound of Abby slapping her forehead in disbelief over his stupidity.

"Really?" said his dad, eyeing them both.

He braced himself for the scorn. "Yes, really."

"Good to know I was wrong about one thing about you," his dad said. "At least you're not a bleedin' fairy. Glad you got over that."

"Got over that?" Abby asked.

Ken sighed. "Jake was never very good at being subtle. Dad caught him with his boyfriend one time - I mean . . . dammit - ow! Mum!"

"Watch your language," his mother snapped. "Dear-" she said placatingly to Abby.

Abby had a hand on his arm and said, "Just a moment, we need to talk quickly," she said. Then she dragged him into the hall to the sound of his dad declaring that he wouldn't blame Abby in the least for leaving Jake, and his mother remonstrating both her older son and husband for possibly wrecking Jake's engagement. "You're bi?" Abby asked quietly.

"Is that a problem?" he asked her. "Because I don't tell people 'cause they get weird and a lot of girls ran away when I told them I hadn't had a girlfriend yet, just-"

She put a finger over his lips and closed her eyes, a weird smile on her face. "Shush."

He waited, but finally he had to ask, "Abby? What are you thinking?"

"You and Becker and chocolate sauce," she said. "It's a pretty picture."

"Really?" Connor asked doubtfully. "Becker's not really my type."

"You have a type?" Abby asked. "No, we'll talk about it later, but in the meantime I'm holding onto that, because . . . oh! I have to talk to Sarah . . ."

"We have to finish talking to my family first," he said. "And this was your idea, remember."

They went back in and his mum started off by saying, "My dear, I'm sure Jake loves you if he proposed."

"I know he does," Abby said blithely. "I kept putting him off until he lost his temper. I was so sure he didn't really mean it, because he kept on asking right after something horrible happened."

"Lynn waking up from a coma was horrible?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Lynn?" Ken asked before Abby could respond.

"Our daughter," he said, before realising he should have, perhaps, eased into that more gently.

Now even more disapproving, his dad said, "So you're getting married because you got her up the duff."

"Bill!" said his mother, appalled. "In a coma? So soon after she was born? That must have been terrible."

"It was," he recalled the sight of Lynn, dead to the world in a hospital bed, covered in bandages. Then he let out a watery chuckle. "Of course, Lynn's a little older than that."

"What do you mean?" his mum asked.

"Mrs. Cosgrove-" Abby started.

"Oh, call me Trudy, dear. Short for Gertrude, but I never did like that," said his mother.

"Gertrude?" Abby turned to stare at him. "You name the raptor after your mum?"

"Er . . ."

"As amusing as that's no doubt going to be," Ken interjected, "What do you mean, Lynn's a little older than that?"

So, he told them.

"Load of bunk," his dad said when he was done. "Complete bunk. If you're going to lie, don't make up some fairy tale."

At that moment, one of those miraculous coincidences happened that you don't normally see in real life. The doorbell rang and Ken, clearly eager to get away from the very uncomfortable meeting going on, answered the door. "Grant! Great to see you, come in and break up the mess that's going on in here!"

"_I_ have no subtlety?" muttered Connor.

Into the parlour came, "Grant?"

"Connor? Abby? What're you doing here?" asked the SF who'd been with the ARC all along. "Wait . . . I heard something . . . your real name's not Connor, it's something else. You're Ken's baby brother?"

"Yeah," Connor said, not really sure how this was going to go. "You know Ken?"

"Yeah, we went through training together, were on the same mission he went MIA from, actually." Grant grinned. "I'm just happy he made it back in the end. Bet you are too."

"Yeah," Connor said again, trying to wrap his head around the idea of his older brother knowing anyone but him from the ARC.

"You work with Jake?" Ken asked, curiously.

"He was a real mess when we first started," Grant said.

"Thanks ever so," Connor told him sourly. "So sorry uni and being on the run from Helen's son didn't give me the chance to learn how to shoot things."

Shaking his head, the SF soldier said, "You're not half bad now. All that time with Danny and Becker on the range paid off."

"Wait a damn minute!" snapped his father. "You're trying to tell me that my son, Jake there, was _actually_ involved in some mad kidnapping plot and some top secret MI-something-or-other project?"

"Yes," Grant said bluntly. "That's why he was out of contact for a year," he added. "He and one of the other members of his team had been . . . er . . ." he glanced at Connor and Abby.

"We're allowed to give them the broad strokes," Connor said. "You know, held captive in the Amazon by some terrorist group out there." He turned to his parents. "But only to family, yeah? Just so's you have some idea why I wasn't around."

For the rest of the evening, his father sat in the corner and glared while his mother fluttered about, not really certain of what to do with them, but trying to get along with everyone. The three ARC members and Ken, however, chatted easily, sharing stories that weren't classified. When Connor and Abby left that evening, Ken walked them out to their car. "I'm glad you're alright, Jake," Ken said. "I missed you, yeah?"

"I'm sorry I was a berk," Connor started.

"No," Ken told him. "_I'm_ sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I ever made you think I was laughing at you for things."

Abby smiled. "You'll have to come by and visit some time. Lynn'll be happy to meet her uncle. We'll be sending out the official wedding invitations soon, but you'll have to clear you calendar."

"I'll be there with bells on," Ken promised. He and Connor shared a manly, backslapping hug, then Connor and Abby left.

One week later Connor's mother was at their flat, flummoxing Lynn with her traditionalism and knitted jumpers, and a list of all the family members that had to be added to the wedding.

The numbers of invitees rose to about a hundred and twenty.

Stephen and Sarah vanished, leaving a general email that they'd eloped to City Hall and were spending the honeymoon on an archaeological dig in South America somewhere. Lynn noted, once her dad had stopped cursing, that this was the twenty-sixth threat he'd made of elopement, and when Abby got back from a dress fitting and saw that email, that it was Abby's thirty-third.

Abby had, several weeks before, handed the reins over Jess, who'd taken over to start, then gradually become overwhelmed by the plans, more because of Lettie and Lynn, and Connor's mum interfering, which had got Emily involved, who'd then called in Jenny for assistance in modern idiom and the whole thing had spiralled outward until Lester had asked his wife to play mediator, which she had compared to trying to make peace in the Middle East while babysitting a pack of five-year-olds and planning a birthday party for a hundred guests.

They got married at the British Museum and had a chocolate, anaconda-shaped cake stretched out all over a table, covered in caramel and chocolate patterned icing, guarded by Gertrude the raptor. This made Lynn happy, although the cake and its guard were met by less enthusiasm from Gertrude's namesake. The wedding was far bigger than either Abby or Connor had wanted, which made Connor's mum happy at being part of an event that would be talked about at home for years. Emily was quite satisfied that the seating arrangements worked out to everyone's satisfaction, and that she had learnt all the things necessary to plan for her own wedding once she worked Matt around to proposing. Jenny was delighted that they'd managed something that was quite like both Connor and Abby, and that she'd got them to hire her husband's band to play for the bulk of the evening. Stephen and Sarah took the mick at Connor and Abby, because they'd had a lot more fun getting married.

Lester's wife swore never again, and that if he tried to get her involved in any planning for anyone else that worked for him, she'd divorce him.

As Connor kissed Abby, standing in front of what felt like nearly everyone they'd ever met, he just thanked his lucky stars for Lynn, who was, after all, the reason this had all happened, in the end.

"Stop that! I want to eat the snake's head. You'll have plenty of time to snog later," Lynn declared from behind them. "And it's boring to watch."

Connor turned and scooped her up even though she was too big for it, really. "And thank you."

"You're welcome. For what?"

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here now marrying Abby," Connor told her.

Lynn smiled and hugged him. "Thanks for rescuing me, Dad. Love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart."

"If you two don't hurry up," Abby said, "I'll bet Stephen and Sarah will start in on the cake without us."

"Good point," Lynn wriggled away. "I'm claiming the head!"

"No snake head until after dinner!" Connor called as he chased after her.

The End


End file.
